Wild Wolf

by Vimesenthusiast

Fed up with life in Nerima, Ranma runs away, only to be followed by Happosai, who has a magic scroll he want to try out. It works but Ranma suddenly finds himself in Westeros replacing the champion chosen by the old gods in a time of great peril for humanity. How will the world change with the Wild Wolf raised in the den of wolves? A lot. Thanks to Naj. P. Jackson for the picture.

10. Chapter 10

I do not own Martin or Takahashi. Such a pity, they both need some reality readjustment.

Thanks go out to Anthony444 for his help in betaing this chapter as well as being a major source of information about Westeros.

First a plea, then a warning. Please, my fellow ASoIaF writers, please, for all that is holy, stop trying to out-drama or angst the original. It doesn't really work, and frankly its getting old. I am still looking for a story that concentrates on the warfare aspect, stark centric if possible, but I'm getting desperate enough that no longer really matters. But I haven't found any. I realize Martin sucked at the warfare aspect as well, but come on, prove you can do it better than the lazy one!

Now the warning here: some bad things happen to a few characters who I think have a certain following here, as well as my first lemon in this story. It's marked so you can avoid it, but this is A Song of Ice and Fire, and sex is just part of that universe.

Wild Wolf Chapter 10 Opening Moves

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At the same time that the Fish's Scales was rounding the Paps into the Bite, Dacey and her party had finally reached the edge of the Gorge,the incredibly deep cut through the mountains that would become the Frost Fangs as they kept on going further north. Forged millennia ago by glacier runoff, the Gorge marked the far western edge of the wall. That was marked by a bridge over the expanse guarded by a castle called, rather unimaginatively, Westwatch-By-the-Gorge. It had previously been abandoned like most of the others, but Dacey knew that it was manned now by men of House Umber, if she remembered correctly.

Yet where Dacey and her party reached the Gorge was quite a ways down from the end of the Wall, the Gorge going by the Wall on a wavy diagonal down towards the Bay of Ice. Over the edge of the Bridge of Bones, the Milkwater was visible below it. Here it was so far below them they could barely make out the frothing torrent as it moved down through the bottom of the gorge. It was an awe inspiring sight, an amazing example of what running water could do over time to even the hardest granite.

But after the last two months of travel through the mountains Dacey was in no mood to take in the sights. The going had been tough from the moment Dacey reached Norrey territory, giving her a whole new respect for the Mountain Clans who survived up here, and that was just the start of it. The further north they got, the colder it got and the more snow there was on the ground. The cold shouldn't have been anything she wasn't used to having been to the Wall, however up here in the mountains it was even colder than it had been on the Wall. Dacey was uncertain why it was colder at the higher altitudes, but it was. This, the steepness of the going for so much of their trip, and the fact they had to move around large drifts of snow to make any headway had made the trip as irritating as it could be.

Thanks to her mother's preparations no one had lost anything to frostbite just yet, be it limb, finger or other appendage, but one of the men had come close after having taken a piss one night. Dacey had found that amusing, but the other Mormont men had been appalled so she hadn't let her amusement had been the only humorous thing to happen though.

"Told ya." Wilhelm Stonegrinder said, pulling down the bit of wool cloth covering hismouth to spit to the side. He was the leader of the band of fifty Norrey men, some relation or other to the clan chief, and he had been against the entire journey, seeing it as a pointless exercise. If the wildlings were scaling up and down the Gorge, they surely weren't doing it this high up, nearer the Wall was somewhat believable, though even that wasn't really, not with Westwatch-By-the-Gorge manned once more.

When his woolen face mask was back in place Wilhelm went on. "It's too cold up 'ere, way too 'igh for anyone, even wilders to try climb the Gorge. They'da 'ave ta use magic or have someone on this side ter help. Even then it'd be I'possible, de Gorge is too wide 'ere."

"Does it become thinner anywhere else along its length?" Dacey asked after deciphering the man's accent, her voice muffled by her own scarf. Two months and she still wasn't used to the way the man mangled common. Still, she wasn't quite ready to give up on this mission just yet, but it did look to be a dead-end at this point.

The senior Norrey men conferred for a few moments then Wilhelm came back. "It does nearer where the mountain's start ta go down agin. We can follow the Gorge for a bit, if that's what ya want. But it be too cold up here fer us to be here long, and there ain't no game up here. We'll be eatin' our supplies from here on."

"Not what I want." Dacey replied, shaking her head. "But I think we need to do a thorough job here. Four days, we'll follow the gorge down to the bay for four days, and if we found nothing by that point, we'll turn back."

Around her the men of House Mormont and the mountain clansmen all nodded.

The next few days they followed Dacey's command, moving from their starting point down towards the now heading somewhat further down the mountain, albeit in a very slow and roundabout manner, each day was colder than the last, and even the mountain men were worried about it. Wilhelm finally said it was bizarre, that it should have become a little warmer at least, not colder.

Dacey kept her own council but her eyes were watchful, her body tense as she stared into shadows, and she always took two watches each night, realizing that this mission might actually bear fruit. It was debilitating, but she was determined to be awake if anything happened.

On the third day they got away from the sparse covering of the very top of the mountains into a small forest, the trees giving them cover from the wind and some relief from the cold because of that, though not as much as anyone had hoped. That night they camped under the eaves of the trees there and it was almost as if they had been watched, because Dacey had just gone to bed when a worried shout from outside.

She dashed out instantly, not having bothered to change. None of them did at night, simply pulling their bed rolls over themselves for further warmth with a heated stone for their bed rolls thrown in first. On her way out she grabbed up her sword, giving thanks once again for the good fur-lined leather gloves her mother had gifted her. A few of the mountain men couldn't handle anything better than a spear, needing to wear large, clumsy mittens rather than gloves that could give them the gripping ability of their uncovered hand.

She wasn't the first one out, several other men had bolted out of their tents as well. They all raced towards where the watcher that shouted, a Mormont man, was pointing. "Blue lights!" He said, his teeth chattering with the cold almost making the words unintelligible. "I saw blue lights, something is out there!"

Dacey scowled, her fears confirmed. No longer caring about seeming to be jumping at shadows, she barked out orders looking at the men around her. "Rouse the others. We'll have half on half off for the rest every night."

That meant fifty men would be awake for every watch with fifty off for the rest of the night, with the watches broken into two rather than the normal three. It would tire them out for the next day, but it would also allow them to have a large enough guard force that maybe they wouldn't be to be taken by surprise.

Moments later the men who would be joining the watch were awake grumbling but not complaining overmuch. The men of House Mormont, able to read Dacey's concern in her voice and eyes over her face covering, knew something unusual was going on. The clansmen had legends about blue lights, they didn't know what they meant, but they knew bad things followed them.

Both groups were given another clue to this when Dacey pulled out her pack, then began to unwrap the six dragonglass daggers Jon had given her. After unwrapping each one she handed them to the two best swordsmen among her House's men and the three most senior clansmen, keeping one for herself. "Just in case." she said grimly.

The man looked at the small, primitive looking dragonglass daggers and back to her wide-eyed, then around in the woods. "Are ya sure?" Wilhelm asked, his voice trembling in what in anyone but a clansmen Dacey would have called Fear. She would still have called it that in this case, but not aloud, such would have been an insult answerable only in blood. "Ya really think, ya really think there's some'at unnatural out dere?" He didn't want to outright say what might be out there, none of the Norrey men would use those words. It was a known fact that naming an evil was to invite its attention.

"Hopefully not."Dacey replied grimly. "But better safe than sorry."

The men, even her own who hadn't been able to make the connection just yet, all nodded, breaking up into groups. Many of those on watch looked around for places where they could hide with their backs to the fires so that they wouldn't destroy their night vision of too much while being invisible to someone out there. Only a few were successful, but the others hoped that a visible sign of readiness might ward off whoever was out there.

Dacey, still tired from having been on watch for most of the night already, retired back to her tent. Thankfully for Dacey despite her concerns the next few hours passed uneventfully, allowing her to get some much needed sleep.

It was approaching the first blush of dawn when that changed. One of the guards was pulled out of his position in a small dugout underneath a tree by monstrously powerful hands. Before he could shout his throat was opened from one end to the other, and he was tossed aside like trash. Another man died with nearby in a similar fashion. But another hidden guard had caught the movement and shouted "Alarm, man down east side of camp!"

Dacey and the others woke up quickly, their weapons always close to hand. It was this and the fact that half of their number were already on guard duty that saved the entire party. One moment that shout had been the only warning, the next all of the guards were under attack from every direction around the camp.

Their attackers were men who looked almost like smallfolk, dressed in the same manner as the men of the north had for centuries, with only one or two wearing actual armor. But their faces were uncovered as were their hands, as if they didn't feel the cold, their breath did not mist in the nighttime air and their eyes were glowing, deep ice blue. Their strength was far more than most mortal men as well, evidenced by a scrawny one who looked as if he should never have been even able to wield a rake lifting up one of the guards and throwing him backwards against a tree. They also were using weapons, makeshift ones but deadly all the same.

"To arms!" Dacey bellowed, jumping forward and grabbing up a large cob of firewood, smashing it into one wight's face, while her sword took another through the brain box, slcigin the top of its head clean off like it was a loaf of bread. "Use fire! Toss fire on them, they fear it! If not that, chop them apart, it will make them easier to deal with, but be wary of the limbs! Back to back, no man fights alone!"

Nearby one of the men she had given a dragonglass dagger lost his primary weapon, his longsword to getting stuck in an overhanging branch. He quickly jumped away, whipping out the dagger from his belt. Ducking underneath a hoe's blade searching for his head he stabbed the former farmer in his chest with the dagger, high and to one side. It was a killing blow, but the creature should have been able to keep going given it's undead status. Yet instead it screamed, and the blue light in its eyes faded as the dragonglass somehow destroyed the magic animating him.

The man, one of House Mormont's men, pulled his blade free from the overhanging branch, staring in shock at the body of his former enemy. Turning slightly, he raced over to aid another man, longsword in one hand and dagger in the other. "The dragonglass daggers work, they stop moving if you kill them with the daggers!"

Soon Dacey's roared instructions had the men all working together with their fellows, trying to guard one another's back. Despite her orders and the dragonglass daggers it was touch and go however. The undead kept coming, and Dacey and her party kept killing them, but they definitely weren't having it all their own way. Men were down and dying, their bodies steaming in the nighttime air for a few moments before freezing. Other men had lost limbs, one man had lost his eye to what looked like some kind of miner's pick, along with the rest of his face, but was still fighting miraculously. Slowly however the flow of undead began to trickle out.

Dacey ducked under a charging blow from one man wielding a long scythe then used her shield to block another wight's arms from trying to grapple with her. She had dropped her sword in favor of her dagger, which greatly impacted her reach, but even so she stabbed over her shield, catching the second undead warrior through its eye. The magic that drove it died, and it collapsed like a puppet losing its strings.

The scythe came back with a whistle through the air, but even off balance she blocked it, her shield thrusting aside in a show of strength that few could match. "RAAH!"

Even the undead beast was surprised to see it's blow battered aside, but that surprise didn't last long because Dacey quickly stepped inside its arm reach, and slammed her dagger through it's chest right over where its heart was. "And stay dead!"

As the blue light faded from its eye, Dacey turned slamming her shield into a wight who had gotten one of her house's men down on the ground and was trying to get around his shield, which he had raised to protect his chest and face. Her dagger took it in the back of the neck, and the man threw it off before grimly grabbing up his own sword. "My thanks Dacey," he said before raising his huge greatsword, roaring his battle cry as he charged toward the nearest wight. "Here we stand!"

He brought it down with both hands, cleaving a wight in two throwing the body aside, and the two of them forged onto the next snarl of combat, adding more and more man as they went along, while behind them other men, mostly those who had either lost weapons or been injured, quickly grabbed up faggots of burning wood, tossing them onto the bodies of the wights who had been cut down by swords or chopped to pieces.

Thirty minutes later, just as suddenly as it began the battle was over, the remaining wights fading back into the darkness beyond the fires of their camp, their blue eyes slowly disappearing into the darkness. Through the canopy of the pine trees small flickers of dawn light could be seen.

Dacey growled, looking around angrily before glancing down at her once more battered and met almost mangled shield. "Why do people not like my shields?"She shook off that whimsical thought. Looking around she noticed that everyone was looking shell-shocked, the brush with the macabre and mystic breaking through even the normal rash mountain clan courage. Knowing she had to break through that or else their unity would be lost, Dacey began to bellow orders pointing to the nearest clump of men. "You lot, grab up hatchets, chop down some trees, we need to make some kind of barricade for ourselves. You men," she said pointing to a band of Norrey men who were looking at the bodies with wide eyes. "Grab up the bodies, all of the bodies and toss them on the fires."

The men she had first pointed to jumped to obey the voice of authority, grateful for something do to keep thoughts of the horror they had just faced at bay. They pulled with hatchets from their packs,using them to cut down a few nearby trees, working as quickly as they could with the frenzy of the truly terrified.

Thanks to practically every man having a hatchet, which they needed to make snow boots for several legs of this journey (plus the Norrey men felt they were good for in close work) they were able to cut eight large trees down within the next few hours. While this was going on Dacey had figured out how many men she had lost.

Her family had sent fifty men with her, and the Norrey men had added another forty to guide her and her men through their territory up to the Gorge. Out of that ninety she had lost thirty four men tonight, twenty of her House's men, and fourteen Norrey men. A grievous account, but much less than it could have been if she hadn't prepared her men as best she could.

At the men finished their work Wilhelm and the other Norrey men had finally recovered their courage. He strode up to where Dacey was helping the men toss severed limbs onto a large pyre set well away from the burgeoning fort, his eyes over his face covering narrowed in anger. "Is dis what ya thought you'd run into, is dis what we're up here looking fer! You never said aught 'bout, 'bout anythin' unnatural!"

"Would you have believed me if I had?" she asked archly, tossing the last arm she could see onto the fire. With that done she pulled out her dragonglass dagger, cleaning it before placing it back on her belt next to her broadsword. She didn't like the dagger, it was too light even for its size, and the lack of reach had almost killed her several times during that fight. But it worked, Jon was right about that. Still, best to leave that for after, unless we can figure out a way to create obsidian swords that won't shatter in combat.

That caused the mountain men behind Wilhelm to mutter to one another, but it was an argument they couldn't exactly gainsay. Certainly her own men couldn't, they merely nodded, shrugging their shoulders now, having moved beyond their terror to wandering about some things, such as the vast mustering on the Wall, and what the wolfsworn had really run into in that ambush nearly a year ago now.

Eventually Wilhelm broke off from his men. "We might've, our legends say much about t'e forces o' the ever death. Ya coulda told us Mormont, ya had no right to be keepin' it from us."

Dacey looked at them thoughtfully then nodded. "Alright I'll apologize for that, I didn't think you would believe me without proof."

Another, older clansmen shrugged, pushing Wilhelm in the shoulder when he looked as if he was going to yell at the Mormont woman. "Least ya brought the daggers. Dragonglass, fire and swords of ancient Valyria're the only things that can stand against the might of the ever death."

"So we're turning back right?" Stated one of her family's was a young man but outspoken and rather more arrogant and chauvinistic then most of her House's men given the role women had always played in House Mormont. He was also visibly spooked still, unlike most of the others.

"We haven't finished our mission yet." Dacey said, rooting around the pile of weapons and shields taken from the dead. She picked up one shield, shaking her head at how light it was but it would still be better than her own battered one.

"I say we turn back now."Luke said angrily. There was a murmur of approval from Wilhelm and some of the other clansmen, but the rest of her House's men backed away slightly from Luke shaking their heads.

"We go back when I say we go back." Dacey growled, sounding very much like the bear on House Mormont's banner, standing up to tower over the younger man. Luke was talland heavily muscled but not as tall as she was or as heavily muscled. After a second he quailed under her glare and she nodded."Jon Twinblade gave me this job, and I will find out what we need to know, how the White walkers are getting their creatures around the Wall."

Dacey looked at him then around at the others before deciding to fill them in on what had happened on the trip up to the Wall. There were some exclamations of shock at that, and more than one man prayed to the old gods for protection when they heard about the strange ice giants. But none of them disbelieved her words after what happened a few hours ago.

"So you think they're getting forces around the Wall somehow? They never did that in any of the stories from the Age of Legend's I ever saw." One of her family's men muttered. He was an older man named Stefan, and he had originally trained to be a bard before becoming an armsmen when his older brother died in the Ninepenny Kings War.

"They have changed their tactics somehow, or something else changed, though I have no idea what." Dacey replied.

The Flint men conversed for a few moments then Wilhelm turned back to Dacey, nodding. "We said four days, I say we stick ta tha'. One more day o' searchin' the Gorge, then me an' mine turn for home. We're at least two week's fromme clan's nearest outpost, and the rest o' me clan needs ta be warned o' this."

"Agreed." Dacey said with a nod. In fact, this had already been worth the trip in one way. Getting this many witnesses, witnesses who wouldn't believe anything but what their own eyes had seen, were invaluable to truly prepare the North and the Wall for this incursion.Of course,Dacey thought, the Others probably know that too. If they can direct their troops with any kind of control, they'll try to kill us all before we can get the word out.

"All right, here's what we'll do. We'll rest here for the rest of today, making this fort as good as we can make it. Then we'll head out tomorrow as far as we can go and still get back here before the sun starts to fall. We'll retreat here for the night, then the next day send out scouts on a run down along the Gorge toward the ocean. It'll be up to them to decide if we go on, while the rest of us remain here then on the way back we'll go slow, forwarding up every night like this just in case until we're back in territory your clan patrols." Dacey said decisively.

Wilhelm looked rebellious, but the older Norrey man pulled him aside to speak to a few others again, speaking to him in low tones. After a moment he nodded with a jerk of his head, scowling, evidently overruled.

With that the impromptu planning session broke up, pitching into the work of making this defensive position stronger for more than half the day. It was very close inside the makeshift palisade but there was enough room for the survivors of the attack to get their tents into the open area inside the triangle, along with one large fire in the direct center. In a fit of inspiration Wilhelm ordered the men then to pile up several other bits of wood, creating a shelf for the men to stand on, which would allow them to have a height advantage on anyone who tried to get over the small four feet tall wall. It wasn't exactly a holdfast, but it was still amazing how much building it helped the men's morale.

"Well done everyone."Dacey said, looking around with a satisfied expression. As her men and the Norrey men all smiled she went on. "Warm meals for us all now and tonight, take the rest of the day to see to your weapons, then we'll set off early tomorrow." The men all nodded, some with enthusiasm, whether at the prospect of moving on or the food Dacey didn't know, and others warily.

While her men rested throughout the day, Dacey stayed up, getting by on short naps, then stayed up the entire night, anticipating an attack that did not come. It tired her out, but this wasn't the first time Dacey went without sleep, she would deal with it. As soon as the sun began to rise she roused her men in turn.

About an hour later the party was on its way again, leaving behind ten Norrey men along with their wounded to protect their temporary dwelling. With the scouts in the lead they swiftly found the Gorge once more, and then began to follow it through the forest towards the ocean again. After that however they slowed down, not because they were running into trouble moving through the forest, it was thankfully somewhat less snowy in here thanks to the overhead canopy of the pine and fir trees. No, they moved slower because they all subconsciously knew without even talking about it that they were in enemy territory.

Several hours after they had stopped for a lunch break the scouts spotted something through the woods a ways ahead something that glittered as if there was some large band of ice reflecting the sun. The scouts called for a halt while they rushed forward, keeping to the shadows of the trees as much as possible while they moved. Behind them the others prepared themselves for anything, a shiver of anticipation going through all of them.

A moment later the scouts came back, their faces once visible showing awe and fear despite their coverings."You will not believe this!" One of them stammered, in good common for all of that. "but this… I-I mean, there's some kind of ice bridge! It goes across from one side of the Gorge to the other. It, it looks sturdy, and I mean, but it's, it's ice!"

"Show me." Dacey ordered, moving forward already.

The two of them showing her how to move through the forest and soon they were overlooking the bridge. It was in a small drop in the land, invisible from a distance thanks to the walls of the tiny drop, which was a single tree length maybe. The bridge itself was a single span of ice thicker than most trees in diameter, with the top flattened out. "Well, I think that's what we've come up here for." Dacey said thoughtfully. "Now, how should we destroy it?"

"Fire does for ice." The Norrey scout said grimly.

She and the scouts returned and seven men swiftly raced off into the woods to gather wood. Moments later the men returned from all around, placing it in a large pile. Other men grabbed up as much as they could carry before moving forward, while the rest gathered around, weapons ready.

They were all almost within sight of the bridge again when they were once more attacked. Much like the night before last, one moment everything was fine then the next the wights were on them from nearly every direction. It was as if they could hide in small bits of snow and shadow like the best wildling raiders. Whatever the case, despite the Northerner's being prepared surprise was almost total.

Dacey immediately bellowed orders, her broadsword already swinging. "Scouts and four others, light up the wood and start tossing at the wights for now, everyone else protect them, but keep heading for the bridge!" Dacey hoped that destroying the bridge would cut off the White Walker's ability to send more forces across the Gorge. If, after all this time they could only sustain a small bridge like this and couldn't put across massive numbers of wights, then it represented a major target. One well worth the lives of Dacey and all the men with herso long as they destroyed it.

With the wights in their way and all around even that final fifty meters took time to cover, and they lost ten more men fallen and two of the dragonglass daggers had shattered by the time they reachedthe bridge. Night was falling by that point, but even so the moon was high up in the sky helping the fires now lighting up their gathered wood to give the humans enough light to see by, even if the smoke was becoming an issue to visibility.

Still, the great swords of her clansmen, the longswords and heavy hatchets of the Norrey men were able to hack the wights into pieces even without the obsidian daggers. It was just there were so many of them, not nearly as many as the wolfsworn had faced, yet even now at least three wights for every man Dacey had with her.

Despair and exhaustion began to tell, and even while Dacey slammed her claymore through one of the wight's bodies cleaving it intwo from shoulder to thigh, two more men went down to the weapons of the wights. Another fellow had the obsidian dagger he had been using in one hand shatter, leaving them with only three. Dacey pushed to her right side, protecting a Norrey man who had just lost his longsword when a particularly skilled wight disarmed him. Dacey's sword took the thing in the side, cutting it nearly in half while her fellow warrior scrambled at his back for his hatchet.

With Dacey at their head the Northmen forged on, but they did so more and more grimly, more and more slowly. Eventually they reached it, able to somewhat concentrate their defense more thanks to putting one portion of their defensive circle against the drop of the Gorge.

Dacey roared out orders to the men who had been lobbing random pieces of burning wood at the wights. "Concentrate on the bridge! Get that bunch of wood on it and melt the fucking thing!"

As the men obeyed Dacey shouted a wordless battle cry. "RARGG!" With that she charged forward leaving the line of her fellows, trying to break up the assault on her men, who were visibly flagging was a calculated move, but she knew it was a move of desperation as well. There were simply too many of the wights.

Her strength and speed were so great Dacey actually succeeded in clearing an area around her, killing five of the wights or at least chopping them to bits with her claymore. Her shield was once more mangled, and she tossed it away, flinging it at a wight with such force that when the sharp edge of it took the man in the neck it cut his head clean off.

This show of strength won a roar of approval from her fellows, and the miasma of despair that had clung to them lifted a little as Dacey roared her family's battle cry. "Here we stand!" This was answered by her House's men behind her, and she roared out again. "Here we stand! Come get me you undead fuckers!"

She cut down two more wights then suddenly found herself sword to sword with another one. This one looked like a wildling, one whose bronze armor was of extremely good quality. Unlike with most of his fellows there was no outward sign of his death, but his eyes blazed with that blue power that was keeping all of the wights alive and in his hand he held a wasn't like any kind of sword that Dacey had seen before, it was all edges and cruel hooks. And it was made of ice, the same kind of ice that made the bridge.

Her claymore withstood the blows of the strange ice weapon but each blow seemed to send shivers of cold through the sword and into her hand. It began to hurt even through her gloves. Dacey roared in agony, buttook up her blade with both her hands, adding to the speed and strength of her strikes.

This wight however was different from most of the others, he was a tried warrior or at least the wildling equivalent, and used his sword expertly. Worse, Dacey was already tired from the ongoing battle, and staying up for two full days with only small naps to sustain her. That was making her slightly sloppier than she would otherwise be. Even a wolfsworn like Dacey had her limits.

Suddenly her sword shattered, and she screamed in shock when some of the shards went backwards, cutting into her arms, one of them sticking out of her bicep and another her side while a third cut her cheek as it went past. She hurled the broken stump of the blade at the creature, leaping backwards and keeping her hands up and ready for any kind of opening, but for just a moment, Dacey knew true despair.

"Catch, Dacey!" shouted one of her men from behind her.

Dacey looked over in time to see the man throw one of the two remaining dragonglass daggers through the nighttime sky, and she reached up towards it, barely able to see the flash of the red cloth that made up its hilt. At the same time the wildling swordsmen charged, slamming his sword into her plate armor which gave way under the blow as if it was butter. It stabbed into Dacey's flesh, taking her high up near her armpit along her side. The blow missed any vitals but it was still a horrendous wound.

At the same time the was struck Dacey reached out, grabbing the dagger with one hand out of the dark. Her other hand clamped down on the thing's shoulder, keeping it from pulling out it's blade, forcing it to stay put, and stopping it from creating even more damage to her side by pulling the blade out.

The thing only had a moment to flick its eyes sideways and see the threat before she stabbed it through the neck with the dragonglass wight creature collapsed at her feet and Dacey gasped too, going to her knees, clenching her teeth in agony.

Around her more men had died during her one on one duel. Now there were only twenty two men left, almost all of them injured. But it seemed as if they had finally killed all the wights. There were more than a few bits and pieces of the undead creatures on the ground still scrabbling at them, but even so, the battle is over.

Dacey forced herself to her feet, looking around her as men began to drag bits and pieces of corpses into a center area to light on fire with faggots taken from the blaze already set up at the end of the tiny bridge. The ice was tough, but against its natural enemy fire it was slowly giving way already. As she watched a few droplets fell down the side of the gorge and Dacey nodded in satisfaction.

"You're hurt lady." Said one of her men, a would-be healer named Oris, running up to nodded grimly, trying not to move her arm and shoulder along above where the ice sword had punched through her.

Oris pulled her aside, ordering her to strip, glaring around at the men when they began to leer at her bare back visible in the firelight. They all suddenly found other things to do rather than gawk at her, and Dacey laughed at the older man quietly. He snorted at her, then pulled the jerkin underneath her armor to reveal wound in her side. The healer probed the area around her wound for a moment then nodded and said. "By the old god's favor you didn't hurt anything important lady."He growled in his worst bedside manner. "Once the, the blade has melted away, I'll stop the bleeding. But you'll not have full ability in that arm for months, any movement of the shoulder will aggravate the wound."

She nodded, ignoring Oris now while he did as he could while the ice sword that had done so much damage through the metal of her cuirass the sword was already decomposing somehow which was no doubt something built into the magic that created it. As she looked over at the bridge, which was now melting freely then at the wights, who were slowly also being burned to ash, she smiled. Not this time,she thought grimly. We know you're out there you bastards, and as soon as I can get in touch with Winterfell, I'll make certain all the North knows to be ready for you.

Unfortunately, while this would help the North prepare for the great enemy, all their preparations would prove to be facing the wrong direction, exactly as the White Walkers had hoped if their first way around the wall was found. Plans within plans, and if they couldn't keep the first way around the Wall a secret, then at the very least, they had baited the trap well enough.

OOOOOOO

At the same time that Dacey was fighting for her life, Tyrion lounged back contentedly on a heap of cushions. Reaching down, he patted the head of the working girl who was at work on his lower regions even now while he swigged a bottle of wine. He and his men had finally finished the first twenty siege engines, and Lord Commander Mormont had allowed him and his men three day's rest and recuperation. Needless to say Tyrion had made for the brothel that was now part of Castle Black, and hadn't come out since.

Normally the very idea of having whores on hand constantly near men who were, to put it bluntly, rapists, murderers and thieves despite being covered with the veneer of redemption in their Night's Watch garb, would have been unthinkable. However that was before. Now they needed them here, and the Night's Watchmen were a small percentage of the forces on the Wall in comparison to the Northerners who had been ordered up there.

After a few examples had been made there was no longer any trouble because any infraction against the women was met by immediate execution. The same penalty was given to those found drunk on watch up on the Wall if the evil bastards on the other side of the Wall didn't do it for you. The nighttime raids were still going on, but the attackers lost upwards of twenty men for every one Northerner they killed. That was no doubt painting an ugly picture of the number of defenders available, but they had yet to catch a glimpse of Tyrion's little toys.

He smirked over at a few of his men who were using a few cushions and cubicles to have an orgy, one, though he didn't know it, that wouldn't have looked out of place in a Roman senator's house on Earth. A few of the mercenaries were good men and he had bought a few of their services. Bronn was the best swordsman among them, and he had saved Tyrion's life twice since coming to the Wall. He, his fellow Chiggen and a few others were here on his tab now rather than their pay from Lord Manderly because of that.

Pity that the fat man couldn't have found any of the mercenary companies.I doubt he could have gotten the Second Sons, or the Golden Company, but surely a few of the others wouldn't mind the easy work, though perhaps the Wall's reputation scared them off. The fact of the matter was that even with the massive influx of troops that Stark had begun before going south the Wall was so long that it was all they could do to patrol it all. He had no idea what the numbers of wildlings were going to look like when they actually launched their full assault, but he was beginning to paint a very bad picture, and if they found a weak point, it would be very bad indeed.

He had first protested that the wildlings couldn't muster that much strength, but the old hands of the Northerners told him he was wrong. The land beyond the Wall was huge, unmapped for the most part but still probably as large as the North or even larger. What was worse, the wildlings nomadic lifestyle and the fact that they bred as often as they could meant their numbers were higher than most people would think. It was the knowledge of logistics Mance Rayder possessed that would allow them to keep such a large force in one place without needing to move on. Their full host was still gathering, and probably wouldn't be ready for another three months, but it was pretty obvious that once the full host assembled they would attack right away.

Tyrion was actually looking forward to it, eager to see his little toys in action. Or not so little toys in this case,he thought, smirking evilly. The size of the Wall had allowed him to him place equally large siege engines in different positions along it, and thanks to the turn aisle concept they could be aimed too. In fact he doubted that the wildlings would be able to bring anything that would be able to range on them without being hit in turn well before it could get into range to loft a projectile that high. As such, well, they were utterly screwed, even without the alchemists and their own addition to his toys lethality.

The girl that was servicing him noticed that Tyrion's mind was elsewhere. Feeling a bit of professional pique, she scowled and used her teeth on him just slightly, biting down slightly. He growled, grabbing her hair and pulling her mouth away. "God's girl, my bodies short enough as it is, I can't afford to lose any inches no matter where they are. Let the teeth out of it down there!"

"That'll teach you to let your mind wander so much Lord Imp. A girl likes to be appreciated you know." The black haired woman replied saucily.

He laughed, pulling her head back down to work as he began to rub her head apologetically.

About an hour later he was finishing up, well finishing with that whore anyway. He was draining the last of his wine when the door to the whorehouses door opened with a looked up to see Theon striding in. "Ho, Greyjoy!" he said laughing. "Astonishing,you found a whorehouse, that's amazing. How long have you been in the Castle for, 2 minutes? Pull up a girl and a couch, then tell me about the pirates, are there any more out there?"

Theon Greyjoy had changed somewhat since Tyrion had last seen him. Gone was the cocky somewhat touchy young man from Winterfell, now Theon walked with a tried and true confidence and self-possession, not to mention armed. From his long dagger at his side to the large composite bow made from lizard-lion boneon his back, he was dressed for business.

There had been four more battles at sea since the first one. The last had been two weeks ago, and evidently the harsh manner with which the pirates had been dealt with every time they attacked the convoyshad gotten through to the idiots at last. Theon was pure death to the pirate crews, and his favorite tactic would terrify anyone who made their living at sea. Fire arrows were an evil thing at the best of times but after you've watched every officer on your ship die, everyone who could in theory direct a response to such, they were even worse.

One ship had gotten away after the last battle to report on the disaster to their fellows, and suddenly no more pirates regardless of where they were coming from dared to attack the convoy. Theon had first thought they were coming from that Skagos, an island with a truly horrible reputation, with the men there being rumored to be anything from cannibals to monsters who wore the skins of their kills for power, both men and animals. But after the last battle, Theon ordered two galleys to split off from the rest of the convoy to chase after the pirates. He found that they came from Skane, a much smaller island slightly further north from the giant island of Skagos.

Theon had written up a request for a land expedition to go in and burn them out, but doubted it would happen now since the pirates had finally grown a set of brains. It had been speaking about that to Mors Umber and the local Night's Watch commander that kept Theon in Eastwatch-by-the-Sea long enough for the orders about Tyrion to arrive there, otherwise he would have missed it.

Now his smile was grim as he nodded at the Imp. "Lannister, get dressed. You're wanted down at White Harbor."

"What?"Tyrion said shaking his head. "Why? Did my father finally get word I'm up here, does he want his so-called heir back under his thumb?" Tyrion was heir to the Lannister name in name only, and the entire family knew it. Tywin blamed him for his wife's death, again no secret, and had long lamented the fact that Jaime was removed from the line of succession when he joined the Kingsguard. That had actually been one of the main reasons why the Lannisters had been so ready to rebel against the Mad King.

The old man was simply using Tyrion as a fill in until one of Cersei's three brats showed enough promise to let the old man swoop in to train up as a real heir. That hadn't happened yet, but Tyrion felt he probably had four years or so until he was removed in favor of Tommen or even Myrcella.

"We don't know all the facts yet," the young man replied, but his eyes were still locked on Tyrion. Behind him Daryn and Smalljon entered the room,also dressed for war. The mercenaries who had changed to Tyrion's direct employ now looked nervous, keeping their hands away from where their swords were placed nearby. Even alone any one of these three young men would've carved through them like they weren't even there and they all knew it. Indeed most of them had trained against Smalljon or Daryn at least once, and you only had to lose a few times when you have a four or five on one advantage to get the idea that you are overmatched. "All we do know is that the queen has performed some kind of betrayal, the King is dead, and Ranma and his father Lord Stark are returning by sea to White Harbor. They want you down there, I don't know why, but I'm going to deliver you whatever the reason."

Tyrion's face blanked at that, he couldn't stop it as he wondered if maybe someone had figured out what was going on with the three Royal brats. He had long suspected what might be going on there, but he didn't have any proof, certainly he hadn't seen his two siblings in the act. But even without that he wouldn't put it past his 'loving' sister to do anything she could to retain power.

"That sounds interesting" he said standing up from his bed of cushions, quickly pulling on his breeches. "Do I have enough time to pack? And what about my men? I've started to pay these four out of my own pockets, will the Lord Commander take up their bill?"

"Fifteen minutes," Theon said simply. "We'll be heading along the Wall back to Eastwatch-By-The-Sea and then down from there to White Harbor. And yes, they'll stay here. I don't think they'll be able to keep up with us unless they brought a train of horses with them?"

Bronn laughed harshly at that then nodded at the Imp. "We'll still be here when you get back. Besides, if we take over making the next batch of siege engines, maybe we'll be paid more by the Lord Commander then you pay us Lord Skinflint."

Tyrion laughed, then made for the door, waving farewell to the whores.

"I'll help you pack."Smalljon said clapping the much smaller man on the shoulder. Over the past few months he and Daryn had come to like the Imp and the siege weapons he had designed for the wall were magnificent. They didn't trust him of course, he was a Lannister after all, but Smalljon liked him well enough. The big man leaned over as the two of them exited the brothel, whispering. "Don't worry, I doubt Lord Stark or Ranma will paint you with the same brush as your sister, but they'll want to make certain that you can't take her side."

Tyrion scoffed a little at the very idea. Cersei certainly wouldn't thank him for that, she had hated him for years for some reason, possibly the same reason their father did. Jaime was the only member of his family Tyrion liked at all, but if this was truly about what he feared, well he couldn't protect his older brother from his own follies any longer. It would be impossible to even try alone like this in the North. With the proven abilities of the young men around him there was scant chance he could even escape his own predicament right now. He also knew not to try to talk them around to his side, their loyalty to House Stark was unshakeable.Still, as long as I'm alive I can try to talk my way out of this and if there's one thing I'm good at, it's talking my ways out of things.

Soon enough they were prepared, and Smalljon lifted the Imp onto a horse, one of a dozen that had been brought up onto the Wall for the trip along it to the east. "We'll ride for now, then when the horses get tired we'll walk. "I'll carry you if I have to." Smalljon said somewhat grimly. "Speed is the thing now."

"In that case we should grab one of the invalid transports."Those had been designed by Tyrion in one of his off-hours, a way one person could transport an injured man on his back.

Daryn grunted, racing off to grab the carrier and place it on another horse which was the pack horse for the first leg of this trip. He nodded at Theon who was sitting on his own horse at the head of the column, and away they went, the horses hooves clattering on the stone of the Wall.

No one spoke for the first few hours, and Tyrion got the impression that whatever was going on was much more serious than Theon's brief sentences could relate. After a time however he regained his normal insouciance. "You know, I just thought of something, your families ordered both you and Daryn up to the Wall, won't you get in trouble for leaving your posts?"

Smalljon chuckled setting his beard to wag. Theon laughed too, while Daryn responded. "Get in trouble, that's a laugh! We are the wolfsworn, our places are with our leader! Our families know that and will understand."

Tyrion nodded. He understood that kind of loyalty though he had only seen it a few times before and only felt it toward his brother. The rest of the family could go hang for all he cared though he would feel sorry for the kids.

With the speed they were going, and Smalljon's endurance in carrying Tyrion they were able to cover the entire distance along the wall in five days. Not even an hour later they were boarding ship, which told Tyrion even more about the urgency of what was going on, with Theon and the others not even thinking of spending time in a brothel before going aboard ship.

As Tyrion boarded the ship he hoped he would be back to the Wall. Despite the hardship of living that far north, he would much rather be there with his new friends and allies than down south in luxury with his family backstabbing him and one another trying to get closer to his father's lordship.

OOOOOOO

"I am sorry Lord Lannister, but I can't let you pass. My Lord Tully has sent word to all of his noble houses and told us to act as we might to defend our lands and as our conscience dictates in relation to the crown. I personally believe Lord Edmure would sooner cut off his hand than commit treason, and as such you have no right to march your man across the Riverlands!"

The man who bellowed this from the top of his keep's walls to Tywin Lannister was a youngish man, who had been a squire during the Ironborn Rebellion. Despite this he had no real experience with battles, much like all of his age group much to Tywin Lannister's contempt. Summer knights and this boy is no exception,he thought sardonically. Your personal winter has come if you think you can stop me.

Knowing that the Reach would rise up for Renly because he retreated there first, Tywin had decided to go through the Golden Tooth down the River Road. He calculated that if he acted quickly he could meet up with some of the Riverlands families that would back his own: those whose loyalty he had purchased with good gold in the past and through blood or could influence through other means. They could then keep any expedition from the North from threatening to interfere with the southern campaign, and keep the Riverlands from rising as a united power for his enemies. That this would force the battles to all occur in territory not his own was also a factor.

As such, he had split his initial twelve-thousand strong force. He personally was at the head of ten thousand men, mixed cavalry and infantry, which he had led through the Golden Tooth. He had hoped that Lord Vance and his family, which controlled Wayfarer's Rest, would see reason, giving him a hold on this side of the mountains to secure his logistics. Evidently that wasn't going to happen without a fight.

The other two thousand, all of whom were mounted infantry, that is infantry with enough horses to keep going at a decent pace to cover distance faster but not trained to fight on horseback, had turned southward Deep Den to meet up with Lord Lydden and Lord Serret's forces there. Those forces, about eight thousand strongwould force-march to King's Landing as fast as they could. Once there Lord Serret would become Hand of the King for now, and with that army and the remaining defenses of the city would secure it against all comers.

That was a calculated risk, much like his march into the Riverlands, but one he felt had some merit. Renly did not impress him as a possible general, he lacked any real combat experience and didn't seem able to act quickly. If Lord Stark lived however, Eddard became the more dangerous of his foes, a tried and tested general who had fought in two wars already and acquitted himself well. He wanted to goad the northerners out from Moat Cailin, then crush them in the open field.

Right now however he had to deal with this young and soon to be dead fool. Still, it was a shrewd move on Tully's part. Simply sharing the information of both sides of the conflict in King's Landing can't be seen as piling on further treason and telling his nobles to simply follow their conscience isn't anything that could be repaid on the body of his heir. Plus the Riverlands are excellent territory for small unit tactics, which can hold up my advance.

"I see," Tywin said coldly, staring up at Lord Vance from where he stood on the River Road where it wound by the Wayfarer's Rest. The sun glinted slightly on his shaved head, but it did nothing to diminish the power of his green eyed stare. A flag of truce flew overhead, and he was surrounded by armed guards just in case the fool proved pragmatic enough to take a shot at him regardless. "So you believe that you and your paltry force and that equally paltry castle of yours can stop me? Amusing."

"My men are ready and willing! They fight for justice Lord Goldshitter, whereas you fight for your own ego and to keep that bitch of daughter and her baseborn child on the throne. Whatever lie you have convinced your people to swallow, their morale will never match ours!"

"Of course…" Lord Lannister said slowly as if he was talking to a particularly thick child which he was beginning to think he was. "Pardon me, of course your belief in the rightness of your cause will make up for the fact that you only have six-hundred men or so under your command. Whereas I have ten thousand, most of them veterans, something that your men probably cannot say given the sheer idiocy I am hearing from their Lord."

He watched in amusement as the young man's face flared up with anger and one of his hands went to the hilt of his sword despite the talks occurring under the owes of parlay. "I've said my piece!" The young man shouted. "If you think you can take my castle, then do try!"

"Very well." Lord Tywin responded, turning away, shaking his head internally. The moment he reached his army encamped around the keep he nodded to his second-in-command, motioning over his head. "Begin."

His cousin Stafford Lannister, nodded, raising a horn to his mouth and blowing the attack command. All around archers began to fire up at the keep's ramparts, protected themselves by large wooden walls carried by other men. This gave them an advantage against their opponents despite said opponents being on top of the keep's two-story palisade. A simple wooden battering ram with a simple roof was also brought up, with twenty men underneath it rushing towards the gate.

"That young fool in there is an utter moron, I have no doubt the battering ram will take all of his attention. Wait another hour then send the men around his puling little keep, spread the defenders out and then scale the walls." Tywin ordered, looking at the action from a safe distance.

His men all nodded. They were all veterans, most of them from at least two wars. They weren't as experienced as he would've liked in siege warfare, but his own knowledge of that was decent enough, and the advantage in manpower was superlative in this case. It wouldn't be if he had to capture Riverrun or one of the more serious castles in the Riverlands, but Wayfarer's Rest wasn't a real threat.

He turned to look at one of his men, the one in charge of building any necessary siege equipment. "You said you would be able to build a catapult quickly, how quickly?"

"Half a day Lord." the man said with a shrug of his shoulders. "Getting the timbers cut for it won't take very long, but putting it all together and getting the weights right will."

"Don't bother then."Tywin said staring over at the keep, where his archers were beginning to win their duel. Sheer weight of numbers was doing for that considering he had more archers in his army then the defenders had men. Wayfarer's Rest was not a large castle, nor a very modern one, more of a keep rather than a true castle. Certainly it was no Golden Tooth. That, Lord Lannister knew was a sign of his triumph in controlling the local economy. He had carefully made certain that house Vance and other houses along the routes into and out of the passes into his kingdom were not rich enough to pay for any kind of upgrade to their castles.

Of course if Lord Tully had decided to he could have given them the money for it, but he didn't and despite his recent clever move, that is going to cost him and his nation. Lord Lannister thought to himself.

With a final glance up at the castle he turned away, moving through his army's camp to his command tent. Pushing inside his servants bowed him in, one of them already holding up a glass of wine which he took sniffing it suspiciously for a moment before sipping at it and moving on. His map was laid out on a desk, far lighter than his normal one back in the rock, light enough to be put on one of the cars that made up his baggage train.

Behind him his commanders entered, and he frowned at them. "Lord Kenning, take command of the overall battle, follow my orders and take that keep."

Terrence Kenning was a large barrel chested man, who liked wrestling and fisticuffs over swordplay, and his face showed it. A descendant of a castaway Ironborn family, he had some leanings in that direction so grinned evilly, bowing swiftly.

As he was turning away Lord Lannister's voice called back him back for a moment."Kenning? No prisoners. We don't have time for them, and an example must be set early for it to be given time to sink in before we move on."

The man's grin widened noticeably and he bowed again before leaving. As the other men in the tent muttered to themselves very quietly, they didn't want to draw his ire, Lord Lannister turned to his map, staring down at it thoughtfully.

If this had occurred even a year ago, I would be rushing for King's Landing with all of my forces as quickly as I could, but my daughter has proven herself to be quite dangerous on the political battlefield, and my son at least can defend the city well enough. He might be untried on a greater campaign, but sieges are ridiculously easy. No, my initial estimate was correct,my time will be better spent in the field. That will only become more certain when Josef Serret arrives there, Tywin thought.

While he was reasonably happy with his two children's leadership in King's Landing, Tywin was concerned about the type of accusations flying around now. They were as polarizing as he feared they would be, and he knew that both of the surviving Baratheon brothers would be striking out. If Stannis has already struck for Kings landing, I couldn't arrive there at any time to do anything, I need to deal with what I know, not with what I fear. If I can keep the Riverlands out of it, I can crush Stannis with my larger forces when my second army begins to move. And as for Renly, he'll be able to field the largest army, but if he tries to lead himself, hah!

"Now if Randyll Tarly is in command, that is a different kettle of fish." He thought aloud, something which made some of his men look at him. One of them stepped forward before being waved back. He didn't need their minds on this, it wasn't as if they had any new intelligence to add.

Still, raising that large an army will take time, time enough for my own second echelon to arrive at the borders and start their march. Plus my orders to house Clegane and the mercenaries there will no doubt draw off some of that strength. Until then, I can be better served by smashing the Riverlands, stopping their forces from joining Stannis or Renly and preparing for the Northern incursion. He counted off names in his head of the various lords and noble houses in the Riverlands, going through how they would respond to the current events one by one.

Eventually he nodded, then began to pen some more messages to a few of them. One or two he knew would cause issues, but he also knew that without Tully to rally them, they would lack the ability to meet him in open battle. And as for the ones who were already his agents, they knew him well enough to know what would happen if they tried to double cross him.

Outside there was a roar, and the thundering of feet. Lord Lannister frowned and turned to gaze over at the youngest man present."Go see if that's the attack going in."

The man nodded and scuttled out returning quickly. "Yes Lord, our forces have finished surrounding the keep and are now pressing in from all sides not just this one. Lord Kenning reports that it looks as if the assault at the back was repulsed, but the defenders are spread so thinly now our forces are getting up on the wall in numerous places. We haven't made much headway beyond that, but it's only a matter of time."

Lord Lannister nodded, turning his thoughts back to the future but a sudden thought occurred to him. He turned back and said "Tell Lord Kenning that I want the maester of the keep taken alive as well as all of his ravens. I will need them to send words to King's Landing of what has occurred here, as well as some orders back to my brother and children."

Tywin wanted to preserve the number of ravens in his army, and doing this would allow him to stretch their numbers nicely, though of course he couldn't be contacted from elsewhere in the same manner. The younger man didn't seem to understand his reasoning, but he nodded obediently and ran off.

Two hours later the battle is over. He had lost something like three hundred men, but house Vance was done, their Lord, their heir ,the lady of the house, and her young daughter put to the sword, after Lord Kenning and a few of his men had fun with them of course. Their land would be incorporated into either the Westerlands itself, or Tywin would later give it over to someone else in the Riverlands one of their neighbors if he they proved more intelligent.

"We'll stay here for the night." he said looking up at his commanders. "Tomorrow, we'll leave Damon here with a thousand men to retain Wayfarer's Rest and hold the pass open. The rest of us will march further into the Riverlands and sack any castle that doesn't bend the knee to the King."

As his lords cheered at the idea, Tywin smiled thinly. If they don't bend the knee, they will all learn why the Rains of Castamere is so well known in the Westerlands personally.

OOOOOOO

Five men there had been to take on this single target, and now only two remained alive. They had made the mistake of assuming that the target was drunk and come up on him in the night as he slept by the roadside under a tree. Sandor Clegane had been prepared for treachery, the first man being gutted by his heavy longsword showed an example of such preparation.

But two of the others had bows, and four arrows had slowed their target down, though not before he had slain a second of their band. The third died when he got too close to what should have been a corpse, only to find the man's plate mail had stooped the arrows from fully penetrating. Still, the third man had near to chopped his arm off before going down with their target's dagger in his throat, and the archers had simply filled the man with arrows until he looked more like a pincushion than a man.

After that the two archers had taken the time to bury their fellows, ruffling through their money pouches first of course. After that the man they had been hired to kill was also buried there by the road, not the first and certainly not the last. Sandor Clegane, the man called the Hound, was buried there, his unmarked grave barely a weeks' travel away from the keep he had hoped to call his own soon.

OOOOOOO

The dockworkers and other smallfolk were cheering as Ranma stepped down the gangplank, followed by father, then his sister and his uncle. Daenerys and the others waited onboard for the moment, with Fenris there. That was actually Brynden's idea, he felt Daenerys needed to make an immediate impression.

In front of the wharf a carriage had pulled up moments before. Now Lord Manderly himself got out with his entire family around him. That wasn't surprising though what was, was seeing Theon, Smalljon and Daryn there as well grinning at Ranma as he walked down the plank, Ice in its sheathe on his back (it was a greatsword after all, and too tall for him to wear at his side).

At the sight of his friends Ranma laughed, leaping forward. They pulled them into hugs one after another as they thumped and pounded on his back amid demands from all of them to hear what had happened.

Eddard shook his head resignedly at his son's complete dismissal of all decorum, leaning on his daughter for support at the moment. "Lord Manderly." he said bowing slightly. "I thank you for your service and those of your men. Without your forethought, the Fish's Scale's and the men aboard, I would not be here today."

Lord Manderly chuckled into his goatee at the boisterous greeting going on to one side, bowing his head to his Lord. "You trusted me to provide you with an escape route my Lord, it behooved me to provide you with the best one I could."He frowned looking up at the ship. "Where is captain Woolfield, did he fall in battle?"

That question broke Ranma out of his joy at seeing his friends after so many months. "He and many others Lord Manderly."Ranma said moving over to shake the man's hand in a warrior's clasp before doing the same to his two sons. Both younger mansmiled at him, clapping him on the shoulder in return for the gesture which he returned, before turning back to Wyman. "It's quite a tale to tell, since he didn't die in King's Landing but after."

Lord Manderly shook his head. At first Wyman had thoughts to offer one of his daughters to lady Catelyn for Ranma to marry. But frankly he was too wild, and Ranma had never looked at them with favor much like the Karstark girl Alys. Since then, he had made other plans for them, both of which in this time of chaos made even more sense, and Alys had been promised to Daryn nearly two years ago. The two young people had apparently become besotted with one another after a few meetings, and their mothers had pushed to solidify the arrangement despite Lord Karstark's hope for his daughter to marry Ranma, something Wyman could have told him would never happen given how Ranma treated Alys like a sister.

Still despite his wild nature Ranma was a good man, and would make an excellent Lord. Indeed, Lord Manderly was happy with all of the children of Lord Stark that he had met, and the only one he hadn't was young Rickon and the latest babe.

"I see." he said, now, looking at Ranma and then to the ship. "Well, we can speak about that later I suppose. But this surely cannot be young Sansa!" he exclaimed looking at the beautiful young woman before him. "By the Seven child, it's only been a few years since I've seen you and look at you now!"

Sansa blushed a little, but leaned upwards, kissing Lord Manderly on the cheek and then moving over to hug his sons and daughters. "It is good to be home in the North my Lord." she said, turning to him again, her voice trembling a little.

She had loved so many things about the South, but when it all been ripped away by war she realized that all of what she loved was so shallow. Some of it was simply a lie, some of it was just the trivial desires of a young girl and it was time for such things to be put aside for what really mattered; integrity, being able to trust those around you, to be safe and to be loved.

At that point Sansa turned back to the ship and looked at the sail master who had come down the gangway to formally greet his Lord. Stepping towards him she spoke in a loud, clear voice so that his crew up on the ship could hear along with the crowd around them who were still cheering. "Ser, thank you for your aid in getting us all home to the North. Without your sea knowledge and leadership we would not be here. Please, take this with my thanks."

With that, Sansa pulled out from her small sea bag a heavy coat of wool, dyed in various colors of green and sea blue. It was a magnificent work, and one that had taken up quite a lot of her time aboard ship for just this moment.

"A gift from the lady!" someone shouted from the crowd, causing Sansa to blush. The sail master also flushed in happiness at the gift, almost like a young boy before reaching out and taking it with gentle hands. "Thank you Lady Stark" he said bowing to Sansa. "And I am glad that we succeeded in returning you and your family to the North where you belong."

As the crowd cheered watching the gift be given, something that had spread Sansa's name far and wide, Lord Manderly smiled at the display but turned back to Ranma and the others. "You wrote in your note something about having the Stormborn with you? Might I ask what that was about?"

"Your answer is before you." Ranma said laughing lightly, waving his hand at the ship. At her cue, Daenerys appeared at the top of the gangway. Suddenly the crowd silenced itself, staring up at her.

Fenris padded down first, as if guarding the Targaryen girl. Daenerys followed, her head held high, her long silver hair flowing in the wind coming off the harbor, her violet eyes flashing with delight as she looked around the city. Behind her, not caged or chained in any way came her two dragons, now the size of medium sized dogs, walking on all fours, their wings furled against their backs, looking around with seeming as much interest in the city as their one could look at those animals or Daenerys and not realize what they represented.

While House Glover would have a problem with Daenerys's presence, the present Lord Glover having lost his brother to the Mad King's insanity having been Brandon's squire, he was the exception to the rule of how the return of the dragons would be seen here in the North. The North had never felt dragon fire not even in the Targaryen's conquest of Westeros since King Torrhen Stark had bent the knee rather than subject his people to that threat. They had remained mostly untouched by the rebellion, and for the most part the smallfolk had good or ambivalent memories of House Targaryen.

Say what you would for how they went about it, but House Targaryen's forced unification of Westeros had stopped much of the internecine warfare that went on all the time between the different nations. True, violence had flared up occasionally but that was better than the almost constant warfare previously. The Riverlands fought the North, the Vale fought the North, the North fought them both and the Ironborn occasionally, and of course each other. It was long thought by the smallfolk that it was the coming of the dragons that had truly brought a semblance of peace to the realm.

Because of this most of the North hadn't blamed the Targaryen family for the Mad King's deeds. The slaughter of the children in particular had infuriated many of the northern lords seeing it as dishonorable in the extreme. Lord Bolton might not have thought that way, but he was dead, and anyone who thought like him kept their thoughts to themselves.

Behind Daenerys and her dragons came Myrcella and Alayaya. The two of them almost disappeared in the crowd's cognitive perception however as the men and women all stared at the dragons and Daenerys Stormborn.

Smiling Ranma waved his hand towards the three girls to come forward. "Lord Manderly, be known to Princess Myrcella Baratheon. There are some questions there, but treat her as such for now." He said in a lower voice, before going on in a more normal level. "The lady behind her as Alayaya and last but certainly not least, this is Daenerys Targaryen, my fiancée."

Lord Manderly's eyes widened in shock then narrowed in speculation as a small smile appeared on his bearded face. "Interesting, very interesting on many levels."

"Truly, you have a gift for the understatement my friend."Eddard said. "Still, her dowry is something no one else can match, and it will add legitimacy to our future plans."

While Smalljon and Daryn were silent, simply staring, Theon burst out in an awed tone. "By the Drowned God Ranma, when you go hunting you hook the best game of all!"

"Eyes back in your head Greyjoy," Ranma mock-growled. "Or I'll tell her about how I finally changed your attitude to that Iron Price crap."

Theon gulped but Daenerys laughed. "Oh, don't bother, Sansa has already mentioned that one. You didn't think there weren't any witnesses to that episode did you? I don't suppose though you have any equally embarrassing stories about this one?" She waved a hand at Ranma, laughing quietly.

Lord Manderly frowned for a few silent seconds, then smiled. He reached back into his coach, and pulled out a large flowing cloak made of bear and wolf's skin. Fenris growled a little at seeing it, but then ignored it with lordly disdain.

"I had anticipated something like this, though the fiancé bit through me." Wyman said dryly to Eddard. "My lady, the North is cold, might I present this cloak to you for your convenience?"

Turning away from Theon's scowl, Ranma took it from him as Daenerys nodded, smiling faintly at the large, fat man. Ranma had filled her in on Lord Manderly, and how judging him by his looks would be a mistake of epic proportions. Indeed, she could see there was something very shrewd looking out of those twinkling eyes of his and rather liked that. "Thank you my Lord, the North is rather cold in terms of weather, though I feel there are more important things to a nation then whether or not you can go around in silk shirts, and your welcome has been as warm as I could ever hope."

She looked up at Ranma from her smaller height, not coquettishly as so many girls had done over the last few years, but challengingly with a smirk on face as he put the cloak around her shoulders pulling it tight. She licked her lips a little bit, knowing that drove him wild and saw the spark in his eyes before he turned away, causing herto chuckle under her breath.

Ranma took two more cloaks from Lord Manderly's carriage. These were made of mink furs and he put them over Myrcella and Sansa, pulling them both to him in one-armed hugs before he helped them into the carriage, then his father. Daenerys however refused to join them. She instead took on one of the horse prepared for them, while the two young dragons rode Fenris, a rather amusing sight if she were honest.

The crowds gathered everywhere they went through the city up to the keep, to stare at Daenerys on her horse as they rode past, with the two dragons curled up on Fenris' back beside noise of the crowd was beginning to get to them both, but Daenerys was fully connected to them both mind to mind, calming them down with words of affection love and commands to remain calm. Fenris too seemed to be irritated, but nowhere near as much as Ranma had reported he had been in King's Landing.

The smell certainly is much better than that of king's Landing is supposed to be, Daenerys thought, looking around. The city was also different from any of the cities in Essos she had seen. Those were such a hodgepodge of new and old, organized and disorganized, small and large and well-kept all the way to just falling apart. This city was organized in a way that she hadn't ever seen in a city before, very clean and it was obvious to see designed for defense as well. It was almost as if the whole city could become a fortress, not just the outer walls but everything, which was in fact the case.

Lord Manderly and his ancestors had planned everything about White Harbor and defense was always foremost in their minds. Even the interior of the city was like would've missed one such idea and its significance if Ranma and the others hadn't pointed them and there were a few four stories tall houses, all of which were made of stone like small keeps or holdfasts, with flat roofs for the walls were ever lost the defenders could pull back to them and keep fighting from these houses. Each of them was within bow range of the ones near it, and commanded a view down into the city around them.

After Theon had finished explaining that Sansa stuck her head out the window of the carriage. "Ignore them. Ranma and his friends only care about military stuff. You should come and see the bazar here, the markets and the shopping stalls are a lot of fun, and they have some very interesting jewel work, and this local bread, it has some kind of local oil mixed into it, and its lovely. Oh, and I can show you some northern dress styles!"

"I doubt we'll have time for that Sansa."Daenerys replied laughing, leaning over to cup the younger girl's face for a moment."Besides, I'm afraid I am not as fashion-conscious as you are. Indeed, you'll have to be in charge of my wardrobe once we get settled into Winterfell."

"I'll hold you to that." Sansa laughed, already turning back to talk excitedly to Myrcella about it, who rolled her eyes. She wasn't as much of a fashion butterfly as her friend, but she wasn't going to ruin her friend's parade by interrupting her.

Later that evening Ranma, his father, uncle and Daenerys(who had spent most of the day in a bath, along with Alayaya and Myrcella) met with Lord Manderly, his sons and the wolfsworn. They were joined at Daenerys' behest by Domeric, and also a surprise guest:Robin Flint, heir of Widow's Watch.

Robin was a thirty something man who had traveled down to the city to take part of this discussion before heading back home, unwilling to take the time to go all the way to Winterfell. He didn't even want to be here in White Harbor, or anywhere at all away from his lady wife. Limira Lightfoot was the firstborn daughter of House Lightfoot, who held Ramsgate, a normally healthy and cheerful woman, but she was recovering from a very bad miscarriage. It was an emotional and physically trying time for her, and Robin was unwilling to be away from Limira for long.

Knowing that Robin and Wyman would not make the trip up to Winterfell, Eddard laid out what had happened in King's Landing, as well as the act of treachery that had sparked it. He made certain to underscore his guards and the Riverrun men's acts of heroism, how well they had fought, and in particular Ser Jory's heroic rescue of Eddard himself from the Kingslayer, going into his own wounds and thus explaining why he was stepping down for his son. Then when Ranma showed no signs of doing so Eddard told them how Ranma had gone into the city to rescue Sansa. That feat had everyone but the wolfsworn astonished while they simply clapped Ranma on the back for the deed.

But then Ranma told them what Sansa had said about the prisoners being executed, and the feeling of the meeting nosedived. After that Ranma looked around at them all, his eyes dark as he looked at their grim faces. "I don't know if they have other prisoners from the tower fight, but we can't let that effect our actions going forward."

Brynden nodded. "Besides, if Joffrey was willing to kill Greentree and the others in a fit of pique, he might have already done worse to the other prisoners after Ranma rescued Sansa. Regardless, they all fell in battle, and their families need to be told and rewarded for the loyalty of their men."

After that Ranma took up the tale once more, filling them in on what had happened with Lord Stannis' attempt to take the ship, the horror of the Shadow Warriors, and his own thoughts on what that would mean in the near future, as well as their own plans. Ranma's decision to march down into the Riverlands to help Lord Tully and the Riverlands lords was met with approval.

Lord Manderly however was rather pragmatic, and he came to what he saw as the crux of the matter quickly. "I have no issues with the war you are beginning to prepare my Lord, and agree with the fact that it should only be a medium-sized force we send, especially with what's been going on up on the Wall, and the reality of the threat beyond." He ignored Robin's raised eyebrow, staying to the main issue."However, such things will take money. Should we start forging a new currency now? Based off of silver perhaps?"

"Yes." Ranma said nodding sharply. "When the time comes, we'll start issuing silver coinage to our men. I won't be paying our men through what we take in battle, that will be bonuses divided out after the fight at times, then possibly sent back north since on the march there won't be much for them to spend their loot on, though in the Riverlands such will be scarce unless we are on an opposing lord's land, and even then I won't allow any pillaging of the smallfolk. Order, discipline and speed will be watchwords in my army. But that's not all I want from you Lord Manderly, your city or yours, Robin."

"I presume you mean something other than sending some of my men with you?" Robin asked before Wyman could respond. "I refuse to leave my wife for long as I said earlier, but I can send some men under my master-at-arms."

"Hold off on that Robin, I don't want your men with me, I'll want them here to deal with the other issue I have for both of you. I will want some of your heavy cavalry though, Wyman"

"My city and my house are at your disposal, of course." Wyman replied, cocking one eyebrow.

"I know that, but it's good to hear anyway." Ranma said with a smile."My idea for both of you is about Sisterton."

Eddard looked up at him sharply. "We didn't discuss that, what do you intend Ranma?"

It was Daenerys who replied. The two of them had talked about this since the smuggler attempted to attack them. "If the Vale cannot control those smugglers, and at present the Vale is splintering thanks to the weakness of its ruling family, we will."

Ranma nodded."The smugglers have always been an obstacle to trade here, this attack on us was just the last straw, besides the Vale's control of them has always been tenuous at best, more a thing of law than reality. I want the Three Sisters captured, their lords removed and either arrested or executed depending on if they try to fight back and were connected to their smuggling and pirate activity."

He turned to his friends. "Theon, you'll be in command of the naval forces. Given what everyone has told me about how well you led the defenses of the convoys heading up to the Wall I doubt any of the captains will have an issue with that."

Lord Manderly and his two sons both nodded firmly, while Theon flushed slightly at the praise as Smalljon clapped him hard on the back. None of them had any doubts about Theon's ability to command at sea. For his part, Theon was slightly unhappy to be sidelined like that, but he could see the reasoning behind it.

Seeing that, Ranma smiled at his childhood friend then went on. "Wylis, you'll command the invasion forces, made up of your own men and those of your family Robin. I trust I don't have to tell you my views on discipline, or the treatment of female prisoners?"

While he was not a wolfsworn, Wylis and his younger brother Wendel had spent quite a lot of time around Ranma at one point or another, and knew his views on rape. How that could be stopped during a sack of a town was another question, but Wylis was also a true knight and had his own views on such, so was determined to at least try. Thus he simply nodded his eyes hard. "What about male prisoners?"

"If they are willing to live under Northern rule, let them retain their current lands and possessions. If not, then they will need to be shipped up to the Wall or be forced to be of use on other projects going forward." Ranma shrugged philosophically.

"Is there anyway we can send supplies down to slightly beyond the Neck?"Daenerys said looking at the map that was on one wall of Lord Manderly's study. "I would presume that such would allow us and the army to march down much more quickly if we don't have to carry all our supplies with us."

"We don't have enough lift capacity in the city to lift an army of any appreciable size just yet, but yes we can transport foodstuffs and other items easily. I believe there's a small fishing village on the edge of Lord Reed's territory that sometimes bring up items from the Neck, ingredients for medicine and other things, though they sell most of that down in the Riverlands. It will take a few months but we could enlarge it and make it into some kind of supply depot." Wyman replied, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully at the 'we' part of that sentence.

"Excellent." Daenerys replied enthusiastically. "That could also allow us to bring in reinforcements somewhat quickly if we need them. I would think House Locke could send troops down that way much faster than overland for example."

Ranma nodded, smirking a bit, though his eyes were still hard. "I want the whole of the Bite under our control. If we have the Bite locked down we can then use portions of the Navy to reinforce us elsewhere further south, which'll be needed if we have to take the fight to Dragonstone in particular, and could come as a shock to the Vale if Lysa or whoever replace her comes in on the Lannister or Baratheon side of things. But behind that, what kind of force can you send with the army?"

"I will send Wendel here with a seven hundred heavy cavalry and six hundred heavy infantry straight down to the Moat within four days' time." Wyman said decisively, Wendel nodding in agreement. "I'll start working on creating a silver-backed currency as well."

Wylis smiled. "You'll be traveling back to Winterfell up the White Knife most of the way. It's slower going up the river, but is still faster than on foot. Well…" He laughed looking over at Ranma. "For most of us anyway."

While his son and Daenerys laughed, Eddard leaned forward eagerly from where he had been propped up on some cushions by the table. "Tell me about that. How are Bran and Catelyn doing, what have they been up to the past few months? We'd gotten some news of Bran's work on the White Knife in the monthly messages I shared with my lady wife before everything went to the crapper in King's Landing but I crave current news of my family."

Lord Manderly smiled gently at the other man, knowing how important family was to Lord Stark, despite his stern appearance. The rest of the night was taken up by discussing Bran's work on the White knife, the issue of steel and how it would pertain to the coming campaign and the pay for the men who would be joining the army, and other sundry items throughout the night.

Later that evening, after everyone else had gone to bed Ranma bid good night to Daenerys, then stayed up with his three friends, talking about their own adventures. He was pleased with most of what he heard, though he hoped that Theon wouldn't be needed in command of the convoy system for a while, since Theon would be needed to command the fleet against the sistermen. The waters around the sisters were nasty to anyone who didn't know them , the reason, along with them bending the knee to the Vale, which explained why the Lockes and Manderlys hadn't gone in and wiped them out long since. Theon's ability to control a naval action and anticipate his opponents moves would be needed there, hence his appointment.

As for the wildlings, well, Ranma thought complacently, they were just screwed. They would've had trouble fighting the Night's Watch alone with the Wall's aid, it was so good defensible position, now through they had no chance. It remained to be seen however if the King Beyond the Wall realized that, or indeed had any alternative to simply try to bull rush ahead. The wildlings were not like any army of civilized people, they were a fractious horde, one that would sooner rush headlong into a slaughter than simply give up and go home.

Worse, Ranma was certain Mance and his people knew about the threat rising behind them. No, Mance would have to at least make a real, concerted effort to get past the Wall to save his own position, and to attempt to save his own people from the White Walkers. But if he did, their losses would be hideous. Still, that was a problem for the future. For now, he had human issues to deal with in the south first.

As Smalljon and Daryn left the table to get some more ale, with Smalljon ribbing his friend about his upcoming marriage, Theon turned to Ranma. "I had a thought by the way."

"Oh no!" Ranma said shaking his head and coming out of his own thoughts. "That's never a good sign."

"Shut up." Theon said pushing his shoulder lightly. He sat there silently for moment then looked over at Ranma again. "The Ironborn. We could get them on our side you know. They've got a fleet, and they've no doubt recovered from their rebellion against the throne , and they'll have no love of either the Lannisters or the Baratheons. If you sent me…"

"No." Ranma said emphatically shaking his head. "For one thing, I need you right where you are. You've seen it, the fleet of White Harbor isn't very experienced, they need someone who knows how to use them in a fleet action leading them, and right now that's you. I was serious, I want the entirety of the Bite under firm Northern control, regardless of the outcome of this war that is going to be a done deal."

Ranma and Daenerys were envisioning that as being part of a transportation renaissance for the North, and maybe even for the Riverlands if some of Ranma's other plans down there worked out. Daenerys had waxed eloquent on how much the ability to trade with one another had influenced the Free cities, making them all rich and trade could be the lifeblood of a middle-class, which in turn could fuel innovation going forward. Ranma was incredibly happy with what Bran had done so far, but he would love to see Westeros start taking its first steps beyond the Middle Ages in his lifetime. He just wished he personally could do more, but he had been a middling student past, and that had come back to haunt him here.

"For another, Theon none the other Ironborn have gone through your epiphany, I haven't hung any of them out a window after all."

With no girl around to try to impress Theon simply shook his head with a faint smile. It had been an interesting experience, though at the time it had been terrifying too. Yet for all his fear at that moment, it had marked the turning point in his relationship with the rest of the wolfsworn. He stopped carping about the Iron Price and the honor of his people, and, while one or two of them still saw him as an outsider, most had welcomed him after that.

"But surely as allies," Theon began again.

"The Ironborn are no allies of anyone Theon." Ranma interrupted him, his voice gentle, but still stern. "They burn, they pillage, they rape. You think I can win the hearts and minds of people if I align myself with a force like that? Besides, they would never agree to it. Not even if we sent you." he said holding up a hand when Theon went to speak. "They'll strike wherever the rest of Westeros is weak, so long as that isn't us it's something that'll work in our favor, and we don't have to ally with them to get that. Indeed, if we sent you to them, it might be seen as a sign of weakness regardless of anything else."

Theon actually paused to think about that for a moment then nodded unwillingly. "All right, I can see that. I just thought…"

"I know." Ranma replied, clapping him on the shoulder. "It's a hard thing to turn your back on your people, but you have to realize, they weren't worth your allegiance in the first place."

Theon nodded slowly, though his face still showed turmoil but Ranma's next words wiped that out of his mind. "After you're done taking the Three Sisters, if Daenerys and I haven't called for the fleet to move further down into the rest of Westeros, feel free to burn out that pirate Island of yours, Skane was it? In fact, depending on conditions on the island you might have earned your own title there."

"What?" Theon said coming out of his maudlin and rather self-destructive thoughts. "What do you mean?"

Ranma shrugged. "We know that the wildlings and the enemy beyond them can get around the Wall somehow, maybe they're doing it by the Gorge, maybe they're doing it by sea. Regardless, having a fortress on that island to control the Bay of Seals would be a good idea. It could be the northernmost outpost of our fleet, which means it would need its own lord. I can't think of anyone else for that, can you?"

Theon grinned, the last vestiges of ill humor leaving him as Smalljon and Daryn returned with the ale.

OOOOOOO

That night Myrcella shared a suite with Daenerys, something both of them and gotten used to over time and something Daenerys wished to continue if Myrcella was going to become her official handmaiden. Not only would it be difficult on campaign to have more than a single tent devoted to her, Daenerys wanted to keep Myrcella around to help with her dragons. The two draklings had surprised Daenerys by allowing Myrcella to touch them and even to feed them occasionally. She had been extremely helpful after the two little dragons molted the first time. That was a very touchy time for them all, with Daenerys and Myrcella helping Sunfyre and Rhaegon remove the dried bits of scale.

Normally it would have been an impossible task for anyone of Non-Targaryen blood, but the young draklings were on their best behavior with Fenris giving a continuous warning growl from his place nearby. Fenris had no hesitation where Myrcella was concerned, she was pack, that was all there was to it in his mind. The two flyer-cubs were pack too, but they were young, and sometimes the young didn't realize how strong they were or when play fights became real, a problem made worse by how weak some of the two-legs were. It was the job of the elders to teach them this, and he was happy to help.

Myrcella and Daenerys woke up the next morning to a knock on their door, followed swiftly by Ranma poking his head in. "You two decent?" At Daenerys's nod he came in followed by a harried looking maid carrying a tray of food. Ranma had attempted to purloin it from her, but she had beaten off the Lord Stark's attempt at being helpful, certain in her duties, but it had been a near run thing.

The two girls didn't know that, all they knew was that the maid brought with her the most magnificent thing that Myrcella had ever tasted, mulled cider with a tiny touch of cinnamon, a major export of the Cinnamon Straits. It was extremely expensive here in Westeros, and Myrcella had only been allowed even a hint of it before on special occasions. Here in White Harbor it was even more expensive given the distance and it was a sign of the regard Lord Manderly held the ladies and Lord Stark that it was available at all.

Daenerys sipped appreciatively at her mulled cider, though she had added bit of honey to her portion. For a moment there was silence save for the appreciative noises of the ladies broken when Daenerys let loose a last approving hum of pleasure before speaking. "I might have to keep you Ranma," she laughed, laying her head against his shoulder for a moment as he sat on the bed beside her.

At her mental okay the two draklings scooted over to their plates from their places by her bed, eating daintily but quickly. Their manners had improved as the weeks went by, something she was very happy to see.

Ranma looked over at Myrcella, one hand grabbing up a bagel and spreading some fresh churned cream cheese over it, slicing it in half for him and Daenerys. "So, are you going to be up to helping us with Tyrion, Merry?"

Myrcella finished chewing a bite of fresh bread, then nodded. "I've always liked Uncle Tyrion, even if my mother didn't for some reason. I honestly have no idea why the two of them were so at odds, I don't think the Imp ever did anything to hurt her, embarrass yes but not hurt or humiliate. But my mother was strange like that. I won't say he was very close to any of the three of us, but he was kind at least." She sighed sadly as she always did considering her mother. "He'll believe me about Joffrey I think, the rest of it…" She shrugged.

"Do you…" she went on hesitantly looking up at Ranma. "Do you think I could contact my mother? I, I would like her to know that I'm safe at least."

"I told her you were with us when I rescued Sansa." Ranma replied then bit into his own fresh bagel. After a moments chewing he went on. "She asked me to take care of you, something I was going to do anyway but she'll know it without you telling her. I won't say no you won't ever be able to talk to her Myrcella, but, and I know you don't want to hear this, she's the enemy right now."

"I know, and I know, I mean I know I have you to thank for keeping me safe, but it's still a hard thing to think of." Myrcella said shrugging her shoulders. "She and I, we were never, we weren't as close as I think Lady Catelyn and Sansa are, but there was never any doubt that she cared for me. It was a possessive sort of thing, but at least it was there. Joffrey!" she spat the name like it was a curse. "He can go to the Stranger, and I hope I'm there to see it."

Ranma nodded, not saying anything but merely reaching across the distance between the larger and smaller bed (brought in from another room for Merry at Daenerys' request) to rub her hair consolingly. "If I can swing it, you will be. Joffrey has a lot to answer for." They both do, he thought grimly, but refused to say it. Whatever his own feelings toward the queen he knew she was the instigator of the current crisis, and thus had to pay for it.

The meal passed for a few moments silently then Daenerys asked "Do you think we'll have time after the meeting with Tyrion to send a raven up to Castle Black? I wasn't aware of it, but last night Smalljon said that the maester there is a former Targaryen. I would like to talk to him, if only by raven."

"We can do that. White Harbor's almost like Winterfell, it's got ravens trained to home in on practically every Castle on this side of the North, and Castle Black as well. Though I'm sorry I missed that. I only met him for a few minutes and his hair is so gray you can't tell what color it was originally. If I had, we could've asked Theon to bring him down to meet with us here."

"I doubt that would have happened. He's so old he can't get all around very well, and very rarely leaves his rooms in Castle Black at all." Daenerys said with a shrug which did interesting things to her night dress.

She smirked as she noticed Ranma's eyes flicker downward for just an instant, and was tempted to tease him further but decided against it for now. She wasn't going to rub their relationship in Myrcella's face like that, and had been careful not to do that since the two of them formally got together. Daenerys had come to genuinely like the younger girl, regardless of her parentage or how much she looked like a Lannister.

"Hopefully he'll be awake and still alive by the time we turn our attention that way. But if not, I would like to at least talk to him via raven if nothing else."

Ranma nodded, though he wasn't as hopeful about that. He knew the campaign down south would take and minimum two or three, maybe even five years, by which time the White Walkers might actually be at the Wall. He hoped the magic's in the Wall were still keeping them at bay, though it was obvious that they had weakened considerably going by the ambush he and the other wolfsworn walked into.

With a sigh he stood up. "I believe Tyrion will have finished his own breakfast by this point, let's get this over with one way or the other." Myrcella looked at him sharply with that last word, which had come out much more grimly than the rest of the sentence, but didn't say anything. Instead she stood up, and looked at Daenerys. "Do you want to go first in the bath or might I?"

"Me, I believe rank has priority in such things." Daenerys said laughing quietly at the other girl's pout. "Besides which I think we can both fit in that monstrosity." The fact that this would be their third bath since being given this room was not mentioned, baths were a magnificent luxury after more than two months at sea, potable water being so precious on any ship. In fact all four of the girls had delighted in the baths here since arriving in White Harbor, and Sansa had waxed eloquently on the baths in Winterfell as well. Those were heated from the Hot Springs that made Winterfell such an amazing place when it became colder out, but these were good enough for them all for now.

"I'll wait outside." Ranma said. "Unless," he whispered in Daenerys' ear, his hormones getting the better of him for once. "You want me to wash your back?"

She laughed smacking his chest for a moment and pushing him away. "Away with you, you cad!"

Ranma laughed standing up and motioning to the trio of animals who were watching things it with various degrees of understanding and amusement. After looking at their mistress the two draklings followed un-biteable two-legs out of the room with four-legs elder.

OOOOOOO

About an hour and a half later Ranma led the two ladies into the suite that had been given over to Tyrion. The Imp jumped up from a pile of cushions where he had been reading a scroll of some kind, and bowed grandly to Ranma. "I see you survived the south young Stark, and come back with in strange company." He said musingly staring at Daenerys. "I hadn't actually believed the rumors I've heard since coming here. Lady Stormborn, I can't say you're welcome in Westeros, because I'm certain my family for one would not do so. Indeed, I'm sort of confused as to why the young Stark and his House are so wishful to see your family and your particular brand of flame-based insanity return. Tell me, have you already developed the pension for burned human flesh, or does that come later?"

"Your tongue is as sharp as rumored." Daenerys said smiling thinly. "Yet tell me why I should care one way or the other about the word of a man whose family condones child killing and rapine? Is there such a difference between us, that one of my family members did that through madness, whereas yours father ordered it through cold calculation?"

"A hit, a very palpable hit!" Tyrion replied grandly, holding his chest as if struck by an arrow, though his eyes did not lose any of their seriousness despite his playacting.

He turned to look at Ranma and then at Myrcella bowing his head. "Princess. Are we then to be two hostages together? I have to inform you that my father at least would not care a jot about me, and my sister may well pay you to kill me if it comes up. The Princess though, she might at least be a good bargaining tool."

"She is not a tool!" Ranma growled, stepping forward and putting a hand on Myrcella's shoulder protectively. He didn't even realize he was doing it, but the very idea of someone treating anyone he cared about as if they were a pawn in the game of politics infuriated him. It would never even have occurred to Ranma to use Merry in that manner. However now it had been spoken he knew that his mother at least would assume that such could be done, and maybe one or two of his other lords.

Myrcella looked up at him with adoration in her eyes, loving him all the more for that while Daenerys smiled, shaking her head at her paramour's innate goodness. He was too honest and too good to play the politics game, and if Daenerys was honest with herself she loved that about him. She could play the game of politics though admittedly it wasn't exactly natural to her. She too liked to be direct in her own dealings.

"What you are Tyrion, is either a dead man walking or something else, to be determined by this discussion." Ranma said coolly. He gestured Myrcella and Daenerys to sit. He then explained in clipped, simple sentences what had happened in King's Landing, including Tommy's death apparently at Joffrey's order. Myrcella cut in at that point with Joffrey's admission of guilt.

Tyrion kept interrupting the tale with questions, trying to see if there was any break in Ranma's story, anything to indicate it was all a lie. If it had been, there would be hints, something, anything to hint that Ranma wasn't telling the truth. But from the moment he said that the three royal children might not be legitimate, Tyrion knew the rest was true. He wasn't about to sell out Jaime, but he knew who the true father of all three children were, and that made everything else make sense.

After Myrcella time in about Joffrey's admission, and Ranma described the battle from what his father had told him, Ranma fell silent looking at Tyrion. All three of them let Tyrion soak it in, though it didn't take nearly as long as Daenerys had expected. Tyrion was indeed as intelligent as they had been told he was. He turned to Myrcella and said. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you, and I'm sorry that Tommen died."

Then he turned to Ranma "For my part I agree that my sister has committed treason, and that my father might know something of it since he was already planning against you or was moving against you for his own reasons, notably the loss of influence in King's Landing. Those bandits on the borders you said, I'll agree that they were probably his men, and that there's no doubt that he's already moved into the Riverlands by this point. But what does that have to do with me? You said I'm not to be your hostage, so what am I supposed to be, or is this some elaborate way to make certain I don't head south on some stupid quest to aid my family?"

"That depends on you." Daenerys said entering the conversation for the first time. "Even before all this began, you were seen as separate from your siblings or your father, not just because you were the Imp, and all that entails but because you distanced yourself from them purposefully. Added to that the way your father treats you is well known. Just how loyal are you to your family Tyrion?"

"I am as loyal as anyone can be to a bed of scorpions who would do their best to kill me. My father's lack of respect has long since opened the way for the rest of the extended family to assume that they are one Imp's corpse away from being that much closer to his Lordship." Tyrion said bluntly. There had been a time when he had still hoped to become lord of Casterly Rock, and before he had been to the Wall.

He noticed Myrcella flinch at his statement, but didn't offer the girl any consolation. She would learn, the Lannister family was a den of treacherous bastards. Oh, they were quick to close ranks against any outside opponent but that didn't make the backbiting any less deadly. They could all go hang for all he cared. In that family backstabbing and fighting for position was second nature, else Tyrion would never have spent his time at court.

The only one he cared about was Jaime, and he had literally made his own bed in this case. There was no way Tyrion could see for him to get free and down south to protect Jaime from himself. If I wanted to do that, I'm about 16 years too late anyway. He thought morosely. And how exactly would I have done that in this case? 'Now remember Jaime, don't listen to anything that bitch says', or 'remember to pull out Jaime'? Or 'whatever she wants after Jaime, force-feed her some moon tea'?

Daenerys smiled, thinly but with an edge of actual amusement if not warmth in her expression. "That is precisely what we wanted to hear. Yours is a mind we would hate to see wasted, and that was the other possible outcome of this meeting." Her eyes hardened. "Make no mistake, while we will extend mercy to those who deserve it, your family in the main has not proven worthy of it. Your family is built on betrayal, on ambition and dark deeds. We mean to smash House Lannister's power, to either scatter it or break it for all time."

"You'll not get any argument from me." Tyrion said shrugging. Oh he liked, hells he wallowed in some of the trappings of his name when he could, but he had become used to simply being Tyrion, master of siege-craft in the past half a year. He had built himself a life up on the Wall, one where he was respected and listened for his own merits, not for his family's connections. He didn't have to watch his words, didn't have to watch what he ate or who he talked to or the shadows for his sister's servants always ready to rat him out to her, or his father's machinations. "So am I to take the Black?"

"Not quite." Ranma said smiling now. This was going better than he had hoped. "You've been doing exceptional work on the Wall from what Smalljon and Daryn reports, along with what Lord Commander Mormont sent via raven. The siege weapons you've created up there will be to the wildlings or any other threat from that area."

Tyrion pounced on that. "Any other threat? This wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the secret that Daryn and Smalljon were keeping? Odd pauses, odd silences, something the two of them talk to your uncle and old man Mormont about but no one else?"

Thanks to his very nervous life The Imp was very good at watching people, and had noticed that those four seemed to have a secret, one that was connected with but separate of the wildlings issue. He had never tried to ferret that secret out, but it was there and seemed to color their response to the wildling threat. Frankly the siege engines on the wall were overkill in the extreme if they were just facing normal wildlings. A King Beyond the Wall's ability to galvanize the wildlings to overcome the Wall even without it being as well manned as it was now, let alone his little toys.

Ranma paused thoughtfully and looked over at any. The two of them communicated silently for a moment before Daenerys cocked one eyebrow and shrugged her shoulders slightly. Ranma nodded then turned back to Tyrion. "me, how educated are you on other threats that come from the north?"

Tyrion frowned going through his memory. "I've heard ancient bard songs about giants, mythical beasts, like your direwolf, and…" he paused thoughtfully and then went on much more slowly. "And something about the undead coming alive, and mystic beings that came with winter, the forces of winter alive in some fashion. I can't remember the whole tale."

By this point his eyes had widened significantly and he was looking between Ranma Daenerys and Myrcella in shock. "W-what exactly are we talking about here?"

"White Walker" Daenerys said coldly. "Ancient enemies of all life, and apparently no myth."

From there Ranma took up the tale, explaining what he and his friends had run into, explaining what the Wall had actually been built for by Bran the Builder all those millennia ago, the true threat that was once again rising to threaten all of Westeros.

By his side Myrcella listened attentively, having only heard snippets of this story before in particular the ambush the war wolfsworn had run into. She hadn't connected the White Walker's to the building of the Wall at all, and by his face, unguarded for just a moment, Tyrion hadn't either.

"I see why you were so anxious to get the Wall reinforced." Tyrion murmured. Even if it was just the Night's Watch they could have defended the wall from the wildlings, but from the White Walkers? If the magic of the Wall really is weakening, maybe they couldn't. I need to read up on them as much as I can, what works on them, what doesn't, anything.

Already Tyrion was making plans thinking of ways that his little toys could be used against the White Walkers. The alchemist's fire that had been delivered some weeks back, and its accompanying alchemists, all young, eager and willing to get their hands dirty, would make them deadly beyond anything else the defenders had in their arsenal.

He came out of his thoughts shaking his head. "That's interesting, and I applaud your forward thinking in getting your Northerners up there even if you couldn't share the true reasons with them. Still, and again, what does this have to do with me?"

Daenerys took up the conversation again. "The Night's Watch has truly lost its way in a fashion. It was always supposed to be a haven for those running from dishonorable past, but it was also supposed to be an honorable profession open to those men who saw the duty of the Night's Watch was one they could follow, but now it is seen as simply another recourse to prison for those who have no honor, with fewer volunteers every year. I have no idea how long the White Walkers will remain a threat, but we need to change the Night's Watch in a way, or perhaps I should say augment it, and through it the image of duty on the Wall."

Taking over smoothly from Daenerys, as if they had practiced this dozens of times, Ranma went on. "You asked if you would be joining the black, and in a way you will be joining their duties on the Wall not as a Night's Watchman but as a knight of a new knightly order. We'll be calling it the Order of the Ardent Defender. The order will hold land in the Gift, which will be gifted to your Order at the end of a five year probation period, where they can move from the Wall at will, have dependents or whatever. Your only objective will be to defend the Wall from any exterior threat, maintain it, and in particular the siege engines."

Daenerys' smile widened slightly as she took up the thread once again. "You will be this Order's Knight Commandant. You can name and raise anyone to it from the forces already at the Wall, providing they agree to it. And of course the order will have a knightly image to uphold. Not celibacy, but a certain way of acting, and no rape whatsoever will be tolerated."

Tyrion was in shock but that shock didn't stop him from thinking, and his eyes narrowed speculatively. "You would need to declare yourself queen to be able to create a knightly order, and to effect the Gift or the Night's Watch or the Wall in any way other than reinforcing it."

"It has been millennia since a king cared about the Night's Watch" Ranma said with a shrug. "Only the Lords Paramount of the North even noticed the Gift or the Wall at all. In any event we may be jumping the line a bit, but we will be declaring that soon enough. As it is, our independence and that of the North from the Iron Throne is already accomplished. I'll send the Raven to the Lord Commander, but I doubt he or anyone else on the Wall will have any issues with this. If there is, you'll be able to handle them, because you will answer directly to Lord Commander Mormont. Whether or not the Order succeeds or doesn't will be totally on you, we'll send a war chest up with you, but that's all. What you do with it, is up to you."

"One thing you will need to do be worthy of this honor is to give up your name." Daenerys said, once more taking over from Ranma with a smoothness that left Tyrion wondering how long the two of them had practiced this. It would have shocked him to learn they hadn't done any such thing. "You will leave the Lannister name behind, and everything that comes with it good or bad, and take up a new one of our choosing." She smiled slightly wider. "Don't worry, it won't be demeaning or humorous or anything of that nature."

Tyrion blanched at the very idea, but after a moment he realized that this was their side of this agreement. He could walk out of here with a new last name and this Knight Commandant of the new nightly order (and he did like the name Ardent Defender), or he wouldn't be walking out of here at all. Ranma's stare told him that. Nor was there any way to finagle his freedom either through oath given under duress or demanding to a trial by combat through champions. If Ranma was the teacher of Smalljon and Daryn, no one he could call on here in the North could match him.

And in the end what will I be leaving behind my name? One person out of the entire my family that I love, and I can't help him anyway. He would help our sister, that leaves me with nothing. This plan would also force Tyrion to finally let his admittedly naïve dream of being Lord of Casterly Rock go completely. He had known intellectually that such was a pipe dream at best for years, but he had held out hope for a long time. Now that particular hope was gone, but another one had taken its place. This one however was one that he could grasp through the use of his intellect rather than one mostly controlled by another.

And at least this way I will do some good, and my name will be remembered! It was astonishing how fierce he wanted that just then. He wanted Tyrion, the Imp to be remembered as more than a jester, as more than the little lion, as more than his father's son, unwanted or not. "I agree." he said blurting it out, not realizing how much of those last few thoughts had shown his face to the three across from him.

"Good." Ranma said smiling. Your new name then, will be Brightwall. Alluding to both your place on the Wall, and that you're quite bright."

"Leave the jokes to other people." Tyrion said shaking his head sadly. "I'll agree to the name but please that, just, no."

Ranma and the two ladies laughed then Ranma stood up. Daenerys stood up as well, and while Ranma leaned down to help Myrcella to her feet Daenerys addressed Tyrion again. "We'll have a formal renaming ceremony and a ceremony to inaugurate the commission of the order of the Ardent Defender in a few hours. Lord Manderly will be sending a few servants to prepare some clothing for you, but be aware Lord Commandant Brightwall, this was a one-time deal." Her eyes narrowed and suddenly Tyrion shivered not seeing the madness of her line there, just cool, cold purpose, worse than even his father's glare. "If you try to cross us, there will be no second chances."

Tyrion nodded mutely, and Ranma led the two ladies out of the room. True to their words, there was indeed a full ceremony done in the throne room of Lord Manderly several hours later, with Lord Manderly's able assistance after Ranma had told him the outcome of their discussion with the Imp.

After that, group started travelling up the White Knife, which was much slower then travel down river, but still faster than traveling overland would be. Upriver travel depended on paddlewheels, worked by oxen bought down in Runestone in the Vale. They were expensive, and all of them were owned by either House Stark, like this one ,or House Manderly, but they were large and powerful able to move almost as much tonnage as a barge could down river.

The paddlewheel barges had been designed by a well-to-do farmer from House Stark lands, whose holdfast Bran and his guards had to use when two of their horses came up lame. Bran had immediately befriended the man, and when the farmer hesitantly offered his design based off a water wheel he had seen once, Bran jumped on it and immediately began to pay the man to teach others how to build them. Now Bran had several other smallfolk working for him who had similar ideas for how to build things, which Ranma was quietly ecstatic about when he heard. From that seed he hoped to see many things, and he definitely wanted to see it continue.

They had been joined by a few 'new' faces. Wyman's firstborn son Wylis went with them to represent him in the conclave that Catelyn had called in her husband's name, and Smalljon and Daryn of course went with them. Smalljon was looking forward to seeing if he could be fitted for his own lizard lion armor from the remaining skin of the beast that Ranma had killed in the Moat before heading south. Daryn had his upcoming wedding to Alys Karstark to look forward to, though Sansa had insisted on getting to work on creating a formal outfit for him on the trip. The amused glances of his friends did nothing to help Daryn become accustomed to Sansa's eagerness.

But while the next leg of their travel was beginning, elsewhere events were ongoing.

OOOOOOO

Beric nodded over at the archers, who silently raised themselves up from their position in the shadows of a small, almost imperceptible rise in the woodland, aiming down at the fires of a medium sized camp of the Lannister men who had betrayed them. They had split off from the Mummers, the Mummers making for deeper into the Riverlands while the Lannisters skirted down the mountain range towards the Deep Den, the nearest of the real entrances into the Westerlands, presumably unwilling to act further without orders.

This maneuver had allowed Beric's men the time to regain their morale, retreat to the Stony Sept, and rearm before coming back out after them. The walled town was rather famous for being the sight of the Battle of the Bells in Robert's Rebellion, where his victory or defeat had been tottering on a knife's edge, where he was rescued by Eddard and his army. The Mummers, having no wish to be bogged down in a siege or the numbers to storm it once the city had been warned of their coming, had bypassed the Stony Sept, and were somewhere deeper into the Riverlands. But they were still too many of them for his men to take on just yet.

The Lannister forces that had betrayed them however, had taken the brunt of Thoros's last stand, and without horses were too slow to get away. They had barely four hundred men left, and were not the best equipped for a battle in the woods. Especially one where he and his people had been given the time to seed the woodland with various traps ahead of their advance.

Arrows flashed through the nighttime woodland, impacting several figures curled up by the fires, their dying gasps cutting through the normal nighttime sounds. A cry rose up, while more arrows flew, downing more men. But soon a response was formed, and fifty men from the camp barreled into the woods, torches and swords in hand.

They ran into prepared pitfalls, trip ropes, rabbit snares, and anything else Beric and his men could think up. Beric and the rest of his men moved forward quickly, cutting throats or overwhelming the odd man who hadn't been so caught, before at a signal from Edric, set up a tree as lookout, retreating further into the woods.

Even so, a force of twenty formed men caught up to them, only to run into the ten men of Lord Stark who fell on them howling like the wolves Northerners were often derisively called. The numbers were against them, but the Lannister men were rattled, and no match one on one with the men from the North. Soon they too fell back, moving through a area of the traps with a few scouts leading the way, letting the traps cover their retreat.

Beric led them on, stopping to clap Edric on the shoulder when he shimmied down his lookout tree. "That's the way lads, nip in and out, bleed them here and there, we have at least another two weeks travel through these woods to bleed them before they reach the Gold Road pass. With time, we'll have our justice."

OOOOOOO

"So while House Cafferen is still recovering from my brother's rebellion, they are willing to use their castle as a rallying point for the other Storm-lords."

"Twelve thousand men pledged to your cause already." said Loras shaking his head as he looked over at Renly, who had just finished reading the message from Lord Fell. "I knew the Stormlands Lords were always quicker to muster then those of us in the Reach, but that much quicker?"

"Well they have to be quicker," said Lord Ashford, laughing. "There aren't nearly as many of them after all."

"Now, now." Renly interjected mildly looking at the other young man. The present Lord Ashford had come to power several years ago when his father the former lord had passed on, and he was of an age with Renly and Loras. "Stormlands lords tend to have somewhat better trained armsmen than your infantry here in the Reach, though not up to your magnificent cavalry of course. But even there, the lack of cavalry makes it quicker for us to muster. That is why Grandison, Fell, Swann and Selmy were able to muster their forces so quickly, though it will take Swann's forces time to reach Fawnton. Since the rebellion, my family has had no firmer friends than Grandison and Fell. Say what you will, we all know that horses eat more than men, yes?"

There was some laughter and comments about 'but a man on a horse is worth ten on foot' from many of those from the Reach, but that was all.

Renly laughed, hiding his relief with ease. Evidently his idea to retreat to Highgarden had been the right one; his Stormlands lords knew him well enough and most would respond to his call to arms even without his presence to emphasize the need. Here in the Reach though, his presence had been needed to solidify the agreement between his family and that of House Tyrell, and it too was bearing fruit already. "Besides, do not think that I belittle you or the rest of the Reach by saying that you are in the main slower. We've heard from Harvest Hall, your own men Lord Ashford, Fossoway, and Merryweather as well."

Those were the houses that Renly had passed by on his continued trek down towards High Garden, stopping in on the river trip to send out riders to them as he went on his way. In turn, most of those families, all of whom either had heirs or lords who he was friends with, had already begun to march toward Bitterbridge to meet with Lord Lorent Caswell's men. Being the northernmost castle Lorent had offered his castle as gathering point for the Reach's portion of the army Renly was calling up. He was a rather sickly, weak young fellow, who saw this as a way to gain Renly's favor without much cost to himself.

"Nor is that the only forces from the Reach that have been quick to answer our call to muster, the Marcher Lords, for all that you were unable to send us all your forces, have also responded heroically." Loras said, nodding to Randyll Tarly, who was seated two spaces down from Renly himself, on the other side of Lord Mace.

Randyll was an older man of Mace's generation, with a bald head, wide shoulders, and a grim, weathered expression that went well with his dour demeanor. Even here in the heart of Highgarden the old general went armed, his family's Valyrian blade, the longsword Heartsbane strapped to his waist. He was one of the most dangerous military minds in the Reach, who, despite Lord Mace taking the credit for it, had won the few loyalist victories in the last war when the Reach backed the Targaryens. And it had been Lord Randyll who led their forces in the Ironborn rebellion, what little forces they used in that war outside House Redwyne's navy.

Taking his cue the older man nodded sternly, looking around at the others. "Lord Renly already knows this, but none of the Marcher Lords are willing to release all their forces to action elsewhere. The death of the Sand Snake in King's Landing has spread, and regardless of whether or not it was justifiable will not matter to her father Oberyn. If Dorne does try to rise, the Marcher Lords must have their forces at home to meet them. We decided to only release a third of our forces, but those forces were already assembled, and will be marching to Bitterbridge even now."

Well, it was more like Randyll had decided, but even if the other lords besides Mace realized that they wouldn't have said anything. Randyll continued. "We even have scouts down the passes, and our forces are ready to march to block any assault coming out of the Prince's Pass, or even reinforce House Dondarrion in holding back any force coming out of the Boneway. Your back, Lord Renly will be secure."

Renly nodded gravely. "Baseborn she might have been, but the daughter of Prince Oberyn nonetheless, and bastards are not looked down on so much in Dorne."

Where she was seated near the table but not at it, position between and back of Renly and her father Margaery frowned, wondering why none of them had asked her oldest brother Willas his insight. Despite what his family might think of the friendship, he was firm friends with Oberyn and could have offered his opinion on what the man would or could do. While Oberyn commanded the armies of Dorne, it was well known that his older brother was much slower to act. If that was the case, Oberyn might strike out on his own for justice's sake rather than Dorne as a whole.

Hopefully grandmother has already thought of asking Willas his opinion on Oberyn and Dorne's response to Tyene's judicial murder. She thought, keeping silent. She was here to be seen, the visible connection between her family and Renly, not to actually speak. War was man's business, and her grandmother had been very implicit with that command. While at the same time ordering Margaery to keep her eyes and ears open in preparation for relating everything that happened in this meeting between what Renly was calling his small counsel back to her. That she didn't trust her son-in-law to do so was implicit in that comment.

Margaery kept the scowl that thought generated from showing with ease, but it was heartfelt nonetheless. Renly was a thinker, which was good, but he did not respect Margaery as a thinker, and did not even attempt to ask her for advice. He feared her grandmother and often at least listened to her, but did not think to look to Margaery for any advice despite that. Politics and influence was her area of expertise yet they were also Renly's and after she had disagreed with him a few times he had ceased to listen to her.

She felt he should have immediately sent word to Winterfell and to Dorne, informing them of what really happened in King's Landing. In that manner they could put the Tyene's death squarely at the Lannister's feet. But he felt that the Dornish would not listen to him, and one way or another had already made their decision as to how to act. Implicit in that statement was that he felt that Dorne and its ruling prince would keep waiting for an opportunity that would never come so long as the Marcher Lords were visibly prepared for war even as the rest of the country ignored his nation and got on with things.

As for sending word to Winterfell, he had agreed to do that but only after his army was marching out of Bitterbridge and had won a few victories. He wanted to use that to offset the fact he had retreated from King's Landing without giving battle. In the north especially that information would be deadly to any attempt to bring them to his side. But if he won a few battles then his understanding of warfare would come to be seen as truth and his retreat simply good sense, rather, as Margaery thought it, cowardice.

Worse in her opinion was that he had made no allowances for the Riverlands lords or the Vale one way or the other! The Vale it was easy to see wasn't really an offensive force, so that could be explained away. But the Riverlands could raise an army as large as the Westerlands. They should've sent overtures to those houses but Renly and her father both disagreed, saying that the Riverlands would be out of it because of the capture of Edmure and how old Hoster Tully was. None of them felt that the Lords of the Riverlands would act independently, which Margaery thought was foolish, since they too had their hotheads and those of ambition.

"I could wish that we had heard from a few more Stormlands lords, but the distance is such that it doesn't worry me save in House Buckler's case, but Ralph has always been slow to act. No doubt it will take him time to decide how much of his forces they send." Renly continued. "And on that same note House Dondarion's refusal to march isn't that surprising." He shrugged his shoulders. "Their Lord isn't there, and so there's no one to give the orders for a muster. We haven't had any word about him, or the expedition sent against the bandits on the Riverlands/Westerlands border."

Her father spoke up then. "I have some bad news for us all. Lord Lannister is already on the move. He's already marshaled a force of twelve thousand before his full muster and from all reports of our agents in the Westerlands is almost to the passages through the eastern mountains. As of the time they sent this message to us it wasn't certain which way they were going."

For just a moment Renly looked worried to Margaery's trained eye, but then the moment was gone and he said confidently. "Well that's good then, if he's alone with such a small force, we might be able to catch his army out in the open before they are reinforced! Without Lord Lannister to rally them the rest of the Westerlands will pull back entirely. If we can do that, we can march on Kings Landing quickly, and end this war before it becomes any worse."

There was a lot of murmuring at that, most of the youngsters around the table thinking it a grand idea. They were all examples of what Margaery's grandmother called summer knights, youngsters who weren't blooded yet, not really. They knew the tourney, the joust and perhaps the melee, they hadn't fought in either Robert's or the Ironborn Rebellions. Margaery however noticed Randyll didn't join them, even if her father did.

She had to chance it. "Lord Tarly," Margaery said, her soft tones quieting everyone as all the men at the table looked to her. "Could we have your thoughts on how Lord Lannister ranks as a general? I am curious how his personality affects how he acts in the field."

Randyll looked at her with respect and nodded his head at her. "As in all else milady, Lord Lannister is pragmatic, calculating in all things. He will first reinforce the defensive points of the Westerlands no doubt. Deep Den, Golden Tooth, certainly Cornfield and Crakehall, possibly Clegane Hall, though it isn't as defensible. Or he could possibly not reinforce them and merely let them retain all of their forces."

Renly looked at both Randyll and Margaery then shrugged internally and went with it. "Where do you think this small force will be sent then Lord Randyll?"

Internally Margaery sighed with relief as Renly went with the flow of conversation rather than trying to change it. At least he recognized that Randyll was an asset above and beyond the men he could bring.

"I am uncertain." Randyll shrugged. "As I said he'll leave enough manpower to defend the Westerlands. I can't guess if they'd march straight for King's Landing, hoping to get there before we finish our muster, or if he'd send that army into the Riverlands to stomp any rebellion there out and take over castles to put in place against the northern incursion, which it's certain he knows will be coming, then meet up with his second force before moving against us."

Margaery noticed that Randyll wasn't nearly as dismissive as the others of the occurrence of the North joining the war.

"If he does that he could use the River Road as a more secure, if longer, line of supply for his armies. The Gold Road is too easy to cut off from the Reach, and beyond the pass has no natural defensive positions until you get to King's Landing. He might think he could draw us into the Riverlands, fight on neutral territory. That would actually be a good outcome for us as well. Certainly better than letting him take the initiative and march into the Reach at any rate." Randyll continued. "Lord Rowan's Goldengrove is the only real castle we have anywhere near the border with the Westerlands, and even then isn't very close to the border."

The discussion continued from there, and in the end it was decided that it didn't really matter which Lord Lannister tried to do. If he tried to make for King's Landing they had a good chance of catching him, he couldn't clear the eastern mountains without word getting to them, and the armies already gathering at Bitterbridge and Fawnton might be able to intercept him in the open. Or if not, bottled up in Kings Landing twelve thousand men wouldn't matter much to the Army that Lord Renly was starting to put together.

"Indeed." Renly said laughing lightly. "Let Lord Lannister get to the capital, in that case we can besiege the city with the forces from the Stormlands, while the Reach forces find and smashes the second army the Westerlands will be certain to send. With that second, larger force destroyed, Lord Lannister will lose any ability to reclaim the initiative in the war."

Margaery closed her eyes, shaking her head internally. That, she thought, was thinking far too ahead, and far too positively. After all, this isn't like a game of conquers, your enemy is trying to win, he's not there just for you to smash. I would have sent Randyll and the forces already gathered here to meet the forces at Bitterbridge before sending them on to hunt down Lord Lannister or at least cut off the Gold Road from King's Landing now. Lord Lannister is too good a general to allow him to allow him that strong a position. And if Renly thinks that's finding and crushing the second army sent out of Westerlands will be simple, he is an idiot.

Besides, where in all of this is Stannis? Renly hasn't made any allowance for him, at least none I've seen. Admittedly with only the forces of the navy and Dragonstone to use he's no real threat, yet we haven't heard anything about him. That's worrisome, as is his reputation as a general. His command of the siege of Storm's end, the siege of Dragonstone itself, and his crushing the Iron Fleet is proof of that.

But she said nothing, remaining silent throughout the rest of the meeting until it became time for the council to break up. Renly and the other young men went off quickly, eager to fetch a few hounds and go on a hunt together. Mace went with them, always happy for an excuse to hunt and get away from his mother-in-law for a few hours more.

Randyll however was not a man to enjoy such excursions. He was going to retire to his room to compose a message to send back to Horn Hill, but Margaery caught him in the hallway outside the council room. "Lord Tarly a word if you would?"

He turned to her nodding his head slightly to the young woman whose one contribution to the discussion had been an extremely well-chosen one. It's evident that the girl's grandmother has a lot to do with this one's brains, he thought to himself bowing. "What can I do for you your highness?"

"I'm not Her Highness just yet Lord Tarly." she said smiling. "Pray do not tempt the Seven by assuming that before it is fact."

Randyll nodded at the correction, and waited silently for her to speak. "I noticed in there that you were not very happy about the fact that the North would be sending down their forces, may I ask why not?"

"Two reasons milady, for one I could wish that the entire northern forces would concentrate on the Wall, the wildlings and the King Beyond the Wall seem real. If Lord Stark believed it that is good enough for me. That man does not have a lying bone in his body, for good or ill."

While Randyll had never met Ranma, and was not about to believe all the rumors about him, he had met Eddard, both across the battlefield during the war of the Usurper and on the same battleground fighting the Ironborn. He couldn't comment on whether or not Ranma would return from his mission, but it was certain that the Starks had been telling the truth about the King Beyond the Wall. "The wildlings can put a force in the field much larger than even the Reach at full muster, no one knows how much land there is beyond the Wall, but the massive hordes the wildlings could put in the field occurred in every tale of the King Beyond the Wall. Worse, if they break through the Wall there's no way they would stop in the north, especially when there is much easier living further south."

He paused a moment, thinking of his firstborn son Samwell. The pulling weak whelp had no hand for a sword and no mind for combat despite all Randyll could do to instill such, and thus no worth in Randyll's eyes. Randyll had sent him off to the Wall a year gone with the last recruiter to come through the Marches. As far as Randyll was concerned, that was good riddance. His second son was already showing much more promise at eight than Samwell had shown at twenty. "The second issue I have with the North sending forces down is that every time they do, they impact the flow of history."

Not certain what he was speaking of, Margaery cocked her head, one eyebrow raised in query.

Randyll sighed. "The last King of the North mustered his forces and came south to face the dragons, he then bowed creating Westeros in its first iteration, then in the wars after the Blackfyre Rebellion the Starks came down and made the difference in many a battle there and in the Ninepenny Kings war, just as in Robert's Rebellion. They also provided the bulk of the forces fielded on the Iron Islands, which means that most of their forces are veterans, unlike our own. Despite their army not being nearly as large as the Reach, they can have an impact well beyond their size. I'm also leery of the connection between Tully and Stark, if they can rally the Riverlands they could field an army nearly as large as the Reach."

Margaery nodded, and would have asked further questions but a maid came up to them then. "Milady," she said. "Lady Olenna has sent me to fetch you."

Sighing irritably Margaery curtsied formally to Randyll. "Thank you for satisfying my curiosity Lord. I'll let you go on your way."

Randyll nodded cordially, watching her leave thoughtfully before turning away to head towards his rooms. I'm beginning to think it was good that most of my forces remained home, if Renly is unwilling to listen to that woman in counsel, he is a greater idiot than I expected.

OOOOOOO

Entering the room in the highest tower of Highgarden that served her grandmother as for informal throne room, Margaery found her grandmother as usual sitting in torchlight in her room high up one of the towers of Highgarden. She was accompanied by one man who looked like a smallfolk of some sort, perhaps a drover given his dress, and her oldest brother. That surprised her, as Willas had been with his dogs for the past few days. Two of them were due to give birth soon, and Willas was always on hand for that. "Willas, how are your dogs? Did the births go all right?"

Willas smiled at her, taking her hand in his and pulling her down to join him in the chair, perching her on his lap as if she was a little girl again causing her to giggle. "Indeed, both bitches are doing well, ten puppies between them all of them healthy and the size of their paws indicate my strain for breeding for size has succeeded again! It's too early to tell if their instincts will follow their mothers or fathers, but that at least give me hope."

"If you two are finished acting like stupid children, I did not call you here to simply talk about Willas' latest successful breeding." Their grandmother barked. "Though, if he had done some breeding of his own I would be much happier!"

Willas rolled his eyes at that, and Margaery chuckled. Willas' hand in marriage was a weapon of diplomacy that the family hadn't yet found a high enough price for, but he was by no means a virgin, simply very careful. They had been holding out for Princess Arianne of Dorne but they had been rebuffed in that every time they had brought it up. With Arianne out of the way there wasn't another highborn lady of enough standing to interest House Tyrell for their firstborn son. Not at the moment at any rate.

"Enough!" their grandmother snapped, and both of them finally realized she was actually unhappy. Looking closely Margaery could see that her grandmother's lips were ruler straight, so thin and white that it indicated extreme anger. Or at least discomfiture she wasn't sure which.

"I apologize grandmother." she said, sitting up and bowing her head before pushing Willas to bunch up enough to let her share his seat, refusing to sit on the small footstool that was normally her place in this room. The choice was an easy one for her.

For his part, Willas wasn't going to complain. He had disliked how their grandmother and father treated Margaery at times like a child at times before this and at others like a tool in their machinations. The continued use of the stool was part of Olenna's way of putting Margaery off her stride in conversations between them, and it had worked often in the past.

"This," Olenna said, gesturing at the man standing beside her chair. "Is one of our agents in King's Landing, a grain drover that works the loop between Highgarden and that cesspool of a city. You were right." she barked looking away.

"Excuse me?" Margaery said raising an eyebrow. "Right in what?" Inside however Margaery was beginning to smile, knowing it must've been something up about which she and her mother had disagreed, and if it was about King's Landing, there are very few things it could've been about.

"Don't be snarky." Her grandmother said, a thin smile on her face despite her words. "You don't have the age for it. As you have no doubt already deduced, Ranma has returned. More than that, he apparently entered the city and absconded with Sansa Stark. He killed yet another Kingsguard, along with several more knights and armsmen, before getting away with an ease that is… disturbing. What's more, it appears as if Lord Eddard Stark was able to escape by sea. He apparently did have more forces on hand as you predicted girl." Olenna glared at her granddaughter, not enjoying the fact that she had been wrong. "He was badly injured apparently, but the Starks are as tough as those wolves on their banner, I have no doubt he survived."

She scowled further. "If we had heard of this before, even a single House's worth of knights might've been able to win the city for us." At Willas' interrogative look Olenna sighed and gestured at the man.

The man began to speak. At first he tried to erase his bucolic accent, but as he went on it seeped through more and more. "Well milord, it's like this, there was a lot of fighting in the city, and I mean a lot. Lord Stark, his troops, both his own and from the Riverlands, were just on a whole different level than the Lannister supporters, in bein' able ta work together and use the small back alleys and sich that make up most o' King's Landin'. Several Houses've lost their lords and heir's. Da bastard Gold Cloaks had their own bloody civil war they did, wiped each other out but good. And the servants from the Red Keep, they say that da men in da tower put up an even 'arder fight, gutted the Lannister forces but good!"

"It was days afore they and the golders had enough numbers ta come out of the hoity areas of da city and try an' put some order 'n place. They had this knight from down in da Stormlands, a right grim faced youngster he is, big too, a warrior born, that was in charge o' most of that effort at first, and the Kingslayer, 'e took it over after that. He might not be the most trustworthy sort, but 'e knows how ta pick fightin' men. By the time I was given da okay ta leave most o' the city was back in their control, if not 'appy 'bout it."

"So if Renly and Loras had stayed with their forces Lord Stark might've won the day." Margaery said, her eyes narrowed. "Can I be the one to tell Loras that?"

"Be nice." Willas said tickling her side for a moment. She smacked his hand away, in no mood to be mollified but subsided slightly, which had been his objective in the first place. Most of his attention however was elsewhere, going over what this news meant for his family.

"I wonder how Ranma got Sansa out." she murmured, cocking her head to one side.

"Don't know 'bout 'at." said the man shrugging his shoulders. "The Northern lordling came in one night and left that same night sneaky like a thief on'y better. Didn't get on no ship in port neither, 'e 'scaped o'erland from the city, pro'bly fetched up along the shoreline somewheres."

For all his small folk accident the men's points was good, and her grandmother nodded, thanked him and sent for a maid to give him his reward for the information before escorting him wouldn't' be returning to King's Landing of course, the grain supplies that normally came from the Reach for King's Landing had already been stopped by this point. It would take a few months, but eventually King's Landing would begin to feel the pinch from that.

"So I was wrong," she reiterated. "With both Ranma and Lord Stark back, the North will not only march they will be well led, and organized."

"We'll need to think of a way to appease them." Willas said calmly, nothing about him hinting at the giant 'I told you so' that was hovering in the room at the moment. Olenna was touchy at the best of times, rubbing her nose in her error was not a good idea.

"That's a tall order." Margaery shook her head. "Neither man will be influenced by threats but by honor and friendship which you have possibly ruined by recalling me grandmother, you and father. Loras certainly did his part to crush their opinion about us by retreating from the city. That cowardice will not be forgotten. Maybe helping house Tully will appease them somewhat, but I can't think of anything else."

Willas could, and it was sitting next to him at the moment, but he was also worried. Ranma struck him as someone who either succeeded or died, and going from what Margaery had said he was no assassin, whatever Robert's orders might have been. Which meant he had returned with the Targaryen siblings. What that could mean to the coming war he didn't know, but he was very worried about it, and the word 'legitimacy' was going through his head. Would the Targaryen siblings look favorably on us, my family was loyal to them during the rebellion, if largely ineffectual. Would that be enough to offset the disdain the Starks will no doubt feel for us and Renly?

His grandmother however believed in facts rather than wild supposition, which Willas would admit that line of thought was. Eventually the news from the ship Ranma and Daenerys had taken from Pentos to Westeros, which had by this point put in at Duskendale, would spread but the Tyrells didn't have any agents in that port. It was an important enough mercantile place for the rest of the Crownlands, but it wasn't important in the great scheme of things to House Tyrell. Until then, no one but Stannis and his closest advisors would learn of the return of the dragons.

Frowning, Olenna thought hard. "Lord Renly is still the safe bet, he is here and easy to influence, and our army will still be the largest, not just of his forces but anywhere. And we can keep putting off the actual marriage, the arrangement is enough for now to connect us to his cause."

Inside Olenna was now very worried they had jumped the line very badly here. She had thought that the Starks were out of the way, making it a case of Renly versus Lannister, an easy decision to make, considering how little influence they could wield with the Lannisters. Putting a crown on her granddaughter's head would have been somewhat simple, and connect them to what would no doubt be the new ruling family. But now, with no news about Stannis, Renly's own idiocy, and the Starks not only alive but with the apparently frightening Ranma back to lead them to war, it looked like they were going to become more and more embroiled in open conflict.

All because she and Mace had been too quick to act.Damn me, I was too quick to act, Mace is a buffoon, but I should've known better. "We need to think about appeasing the North at the very least you're right about that Willas, we don't want to fight the North, the Riverlands and the Westerlands as well as the Crownlands if we can help it. And I'll open up dialogue on the side to House Lannister as well. Tywin is pragmatic, I have no doubt somewhere down the line we might be able to make a deal there, for a time anyway. We can play all sides that way, and come out on top whoever actually begins to look like the winning side."

Beside him, Margaery laughed quietly, already liking how this conversation had shaped up. Olenna on the other hand simply stared at both her and Willas thoughtfully.Hmm… Cersei will need a new husband eventually, say a few months down the line? Perhaps, perhaps. And of course Margaery could well marry Joffrey, so long as we put off the actual marriage to Renly for now. No worry there, Hah, his preferences will work for us for now, allowing us to back out with ease later on, even hand him up on a silver platter if he proves as incompetent as I fear. But where by the Seven in all this is Stannis?

Willas nodded, but then prevaricated. "I can see the point about Tywin, he is indeed practical enough to wish to at least look at the idea of having us fighting on his side with favor. But I have no idea how you're going to go about doing that same thing with the North grandmother, it will have to be a very big bone we throw to the wolves."

Then he went on, deliberately changing the subject, something his grandmother of course noticed but allowed, having already considered that same things. "Right now the North is a problem for the future, Grandmother. At present I am worried about what Stannis is up to, he is not known for giving up what is his easily. Regardless of Renly's charisma or his good, well thought out reasons given Stannis' lack of flexibility to anything outside warfare that he would be a disaster as king, Stannis is still the oldest, and therefore Robert's lawful heir. This silence is not like him."

Her grandmother frowned nodding her head. "I was just thinking the same thing."

OOOOOOO

Indeed, while his younger brother was simply talking and planning for the future Stannis had been on the move though not in a direction anyone else would have suspected. The voyage and subsequent marching overland into the Stormlands was difficult to say the least, it had also proven as profitable as he had hoped. His army was on the small size, but it was his presence that truly did the trick. Renly was a fool to retreat to the Reach rather than the Stormlands,he thought looking across the table at Lord Sebastion Errol, Lord of Haystack Hall and owner of much of the best farmlands the Stormlands contained.

The man sipped thoughtfully at his wine then nodded. "If the queen has truly descended that far, then it is no doubt right and proper that we rebel, but I will be honest with you my Lord. If Renly was here, if he had retreated to the Stormlands, I would have raised my armsmen for him since King Robert placed him as our Lord Paramount. He is not here however, which shows a remarkable disdain for his rightful position, and his duty to lead us in person rather than afar. I will not jump at his command sent by raven wings, unlike my late aunt, who was more than willing to do so."

Stannis very carefully did not smile. That aunt had a mishap several evenings before his army came into sight of Haystack Hall. No suspicion could fall on him for the event. The red witch had once more proven her worth.

"And what will my place be in this new court you are putting together?" The younger man asked casually, those his eyes were locked on Stannis.

"I have thought long and hard about the small counsel as it is, and how Westeros is ruled." Stannis said grimly. "I have decided to keep the positions of master of purse and master of ships, but all of the other positions are going to be up for review after we win this war. The position of Hand will be split in two. We will have a Hand, a Fist who the king will turn to on matters of war, and the Open Palm, which will be his aid in matters of law, and the wellbeing of Westeros. This is a time of war Lord Sebastion, and even though I respect the number of men you can bring to battle, you yourself do not have battle experience." As the man bristled Stannis went on smoothly, the diplomatic words sticking in his craw somewhat, but true none the less. "I would make you my master of coin instead, and in this time of war that will make you the one in charge of supplies."

The phrase 'until you have earned your spurs' did not need to be said, and Sebastion nodded thoughtfully, subsiding somewhat under Stannis' cool, unruffled gaze. "With the output of my lands that makes sense, and I agree. I will ally my forces with yours, your grace." he replied at last, nodding his head.

"Excellent." Stannis said nodding his head firmly.

That made two houses that he had added to his forces peacefully. House Bolling, the next-door neighbor to the southeast of House Errol had also agreed to join him. Bolling was started by a cadet branch of House Baratheon, a bastard house to put it bluntly, set up where it was to give House Baratheon more land through it, land which was much better for farming than House Baratheon's own. Barely a noble house, its lord had joined Stannis on agreement of his house's independence of its parent House. Together they would add five thousand men to his cause, nearly two-thirds the size of the forces he had brought into the Stormlands. This was minus the men needed to remain and secure their keeps from attack, which he knew would come.

He had no illusions that he could turn all of the Stormlands against his brother, he was too popular with most of the young lords before this, those that had risen to power after Robert's Rebellion, and the oldsters didn't have the stomach for more war, whichever side they'd fought for in that conflict. It was only because the former Lady Errol had been enamored of Renly for years that he hadn't made any similar arrangement with the heir to this house. An oversight, among others, that would haunt Renly now.

"My men will be ready to march within the next two days." Sebastion said, nodding. Nodding in turn, Stannis stood up and made his way out of the room without another word. Smalltalk would never be something he was comfortable with.

Two weeks later found him once more staring at another lord that should have followed him because he was the eldest and therefore the heir to his brother's crown. He hated this, hated the fact that he had to try to convince people of the rightness of his cause, when it was so readily apparent that he was his brothers heir by law and common convention. Still, this had been the easiest sell of the three he had done so far.

Lord Penrose was an old man, frail and so thin his bones could be made out under his thin skin. Stannis's presence had easily browbeaten him. In return for the certainty of his son's safety if a battle broke out at Storm's End, Penrose had agreed to bend the knee to Stannis rather than his younger brother. Cortnay was castellan at Storm's End, but Stannis had no issue with assuring the young man's safety, indeed he had no plans to assault Storm's End just yet, that would take too much time and effort best used elsewhere. If Renly were to retreat there eventually perhaps, but not yet.

The old man nodded his head, looking at Stannis through nearly blind eyes. "My son Cortnay is all I have in my old age, the price is easy to bear. I will send my men out within a fortnight."

Stannis nodded then shook the man's hand. Both swore their pact on the Seven, which was no longer Stannis's god, but he wasn't about to mention that. In all honesty his opinion on his new so-called religion was much like his opinion on the old one; he saw it as a tool to be used, not fact.

He marched out of the keep, which was one of the smallest ones in the Stormlands, but one of the best placed. With the sea behind it, and residing on a cliff as it was, Parchment could only truly be attacked from one direction easily. In modern times with heavier catapults something that any army could build in time, it could be taken of course, but slowly.

Twenty minutes ride found him once more in amongst it the tents of his now fifteen thousand man army. He nodded to lord Bolling, who had come to command his scouts. "Leave ten men with two horses each to watch Parchments. That old man agreed too easily, he's one who will agree to follow whoever is standing in front of him at that moment, then do nothing the moment their back is turned. He's mustered about half his strength, and I want to know if they march out when he said they will."

"And if they do march out but don't make to catch up to us?" Lord Bolling asked.

"Then I want to know about that the moment they march." Stannis replied grimly.

Another week's march had the army back on Bolling land, moving toward the last house Stannis wished to see if he could influence, House Buckler. That evening as all evenings Melisandre retreated to her tent. Often she simply did so because she was unused to being on horseback for so long, but other times she would retreat there to use her powers. This evening however, she was only in her tent for about an hour before she came back out, moving to find Stannis quickly.

"I have seen something in my flames." Melisandre stated as soon as she was in Stannis' command tent. He was alone, which the priestess of R'hllor had known before stepping inside else she would have waited to share this. "Men below a banner like that of the House we just left moving to a shoreline within a few days march of their keep. I see a fleet coming from the straits to meet them. The ships fly a quartered banner of blue and purple, a yellow sun set on the purple, a moon sliver on the blue."

"House Tarth." Stannis said grimly, pulling on his jerkin quickly from where he had just taken it off for bed. "Are you certain? Which direction from Parchments did they march? What about our scouts?"

"The scouts are dead for the most part, the few survivors have escaped, but are horseless." Melisandre replied calmly. "And I believe they marched south along the shoreline for three days."

Stannis nodded, thinking hard. House Tarth would not join my cause, its lord is too arrogant, and his heir, the so-called 'Maid', is known to be besotted with Renly. Penrose has betrayed me far more quickly and thoughtfully than I expected. Pity, for him that is. "I will turn the Army around, I will smash Penrose. I will burn it to the ground and stick that old man's head on a pike to deliver to his son. We made an agreement in faith, and he goes behind my back to aid the allies of my brother? No mercy."

He frowned looking pulling out a very vague map, the best he or anyone really had of the shoreline of the Stormlands. "You said three days march down the coast from Penrose correct?"

"That is what my vision saw yes."

"Good, we'll be able to deal with them first then turn on Parchments. Besieging that castle will take too long. We will have to think of other ways to break them."

"We have only used a Shadow Assassin once my Lord, we could use one of them again." she said coquettishly, staring at Stannis as she stood directly in front of him. From here Stannis could see down her dress to her bare breasts, they were larger and more perfectly formed than Selyse's, and he felt a trembling of desire stir within him.

The Shadow Assassin was a different breed from the Shadow Warriors. The Warriors were able to operate independently for longer, but Melisandre now understood she couldn't control them well from a distance. They were sustained by the life force of those that had been given to the fire in R'hllor's name, called forth as Melisandre pulled their souls from the fire and carved them into their new shadow shapes.

Whatever she might say, they were not easy to make each one took a toll on her, most particularly in the form of burn marks on her throat from her choker, which glowed hotter with every warrior she called forth. She couldn't create more than ten before resting, and the gem that was part of her choker took days to cool down, getting worse every time without a longer break. She had been bedridden and wounded sore after the last batch of the ones she had created back on Dragonstone. But they survived for days so long as they were not touched by sunlight.

The Shadow Assassin was created in an entirely different matter. Instead of coming from the fire, it came from Melisandre herself. After she explained that a Shadow Warrior would subtle enough for the task they needed, the death of Lady Errol, the two of them had slept together. The very next evening she looked as if she had been pregnant for months. Unseen by any Melisandre had slipped away from the army and gone into the woods to birth their unholy child.

Stannis was not a superstitious or queasy man, but he was thankful she had not asked him to come with her for that, it would have been horrifying. He did not have any idea what the thing looked like, only that it could kill at a touch and that its creation also took a lot out of Melisandre. It could be called upon to kill a single individual and was able to cover ground like a shadow in the night, moving faster than anything natural could even come close to. But it would only last a single night, if it could not find its target within that time it would dissipate.

"I will think on that further after the battle." He said stepping away from Melisandre. Whatever her physical form, he knew the woman before him was the most dangerous creature he had ever met. Once was enough. Yet even as he thought that, Stannis' eyes stole over to her, and she looked into his eyes smiling seductively and he knew that eventually, sooner rather than later, he would lay with her again. But now was not that time.

At his orders, his army turned around despite his commanders protests. Stannis gave orders for rumors to abound that Penrose had decided not to keep to the agreement, and that one of Bolling's scouts had returned, but died after giving the word. Errol and Bolling agreed that an example should be met for someone who went back on his word.

At Stannis's command, the cavalry gave up their horses for a portion of the infantry, something that would have been impossible to contemplate for most armies in Westeros, leaving him with seven thousand men. Speed was the essence, not striking power. With every man taking a few hours on horseback the entire force was able go faster, and they arrived back near Parchment in two days rather than the five days it'd taken them to get that far away, arriving back on the third night of their forced march. On the way they had run into two of the scouts that had escaped House Penrose's men, and their words helped bolster the army's outrage.

Scouts sent out on foot once they were within sight of the shore came back with a report that there was a force of seven hundred men waiting on a shore nearby, with the banner of house Penrose flying above them. The shore they were using was small, barely enough for two galleys to put to shore at once, which they would have to do to offload horses, and at the end of a small, but very craggy inlet. The Stormlands were not named that because of the gentleness of their weather, nor did Shipbreaker Bay only start at Storm's End and head down towards Griffin's Roost. While there were a few places where landing was easy, like the one they were now observing, these were in the minority.

The shoreline was also set somewhat below the rest of the cliffs that made up the shoreline here. And, the scouts were gleeful to report, Penrose hadn't stationed any men on either side of the shore. Penrose must have thought he was very clever to use this little secret, but for all his cunning, Lord Penrose knew nothing about war.

Stannis nodded at Sebastion, who he had given command of his archers, and ordered him to take up position overlooking the small shoreline on both edges, but not to join the battle at first. "Your task will be to stop the ships from leaving. Our own ships can't get here in time to do the task, but I want those ships added to our numbers." At present Stannis had more men then he could actually lift with the fleet he had, so adding more ships to his armada would help him tremendously.

The archers left camp quickly making their way unseen through the night to their new position while Stannis positioned his lines. They would be hiding nearby, waiting for his signal to attack. While he was willing to attempt to convince Lord Tarth to join him, if the man didn't he wanted to wipe out their entire force utterly. After setting everything to order, Stannis allowed his men to bed down where they were but no fires were lit, and no tents put up while he waited for word from the archers up on the hill that the Tarth fleet was in sight.

About two hours later a runner came, slinking his way down from the vantage point then making his way in a roundabout manner to where Stannis and the rest of his forces were waiting. "Lord," he gasped, coming to a rest in the small rocky hedge where Stannis was hiding from sight with Melisandre and Lord Bolling nearby. The ships are within sight, fifteen of them all galleons."

"Excellent." Stannis said nodding his head. "That will add tremendously to our ability to transport my troops. Remind Sebastion of those orders, I have need of those ships." The man nodded, turning around to race back the way he had come while Stannis turned to lord Bolling and ordered him to get the men up and ready for battle. "But be quiet about it, I do not mean to give away the element of surprise. We'll hit them on the shoreline once they have started to disembark."

Lord Robert Bolling nodded, intelligent enough not to comment on the fact that this was an ambush, not exactly an honorable undertaking. This was war, and if he played his cards right, his family would be enriched even more than his previous agreement with Stannis would have made them.

Another hour passed until another messenger arrived, saying that the unloading had begun. Stannis wondered how many men could be on those galleons. Unable to see them Stannis could only guess a number that they could reasonably carry for the time it would take them to get from Evenfall Hall to here. He knew that trip would only take two days unless the weather was against you, so it would have been quick.

He shook off that idle thought, and summoned up another runner. "You, head down there under a flag of peace, tell them to surrender." Robert looked at him and Stannis shrugged. "They get one chance, I doubt they will take it, but I must offer it in any event."

"And if they run, what will you do then?" Melisandre asked..

"If those men try to board their ships again, Sebastion has permission to take the ships under fire with fire arrows." Stannis said coldly. "They will either surrender and join me, or they will die, it's their choice."

Two minutes was all the time he was willing to give his scout and the men down there to decide. When that time passed and his scout had not returned Stannis nodded coolly. "Very well, they have made their decision. Our forces will advance."

He pulled out his sword, and immediately after it left the scabbard, which was specially made by Melisandre from a piece of hollowed out dragon bone that she had found on Dragonstone, it ignited yet again. "Forward!" he shouted, "kill the traitors!"

His force of five thousand infantry trooped out of their hiding places among the rocks and trees, joining up into a wedge with Stannis and his guard at the front. These men were the fire guard, knights and skilled swordsmen taken from Dragonstone and the fleet that had pledged to him and to R'hllor, fanatical in their devotion in a way that made Stannis' skin crawl at times. In battle however, was when they truly fulfilled their purpose.

The army marched down toward the shoreline, where their enemies saw them coming in time to prepare their lines.

Stannis took in the scene in a glance. His men were racing down from a slight hill, which had hidden their position from the Penrose man and the men of Tarth who had landed. There were two galleys pushed up against the shoreline, with more lying behind them in the waters of the small watery crag. They were all so close to protect them from the winds and waves that would otherwise have smashed them against the side of the rocky shores, but they were so close together it made the entire area a fire trap, something the crews of those vessels should've known.

In front of those ships were the men of Tarth and the men of Penrose. He estimated there were possibly half of the men he commanded down there. But there was no way they could use that force, not on the front they had, they would be getting in their own way, and they didn't seem to have any archers. Worse, many of the men were cavalry, and their horses too were trapped by the press of bodies. Even in open battle they would be crushed, under these conditions they had no chance. Selwyn is a fool. He thought coldly. He should have surrendered or at worst tried to retreat, now he will die, and his men with him.

At the front of the troops down there was a force of twenty cavalry already horsed somehow with the banner of Evenfall flowing at their front. Stannis made a beeline for them, pointing with his Lightbringer. "There!" he shouted, looking to either side at the fire guards around him. "Cut them down, and this battle is over!"

The cavalry units, all knights from House Tarth, couched their lances and raced towards the incoming army of infantry. Stannis and his fire guard faded back into the ranks for a moment letting the front rank take the charge. There were too many men for the charging horses to break through, and they soon became bogged down unable to make any headway.

And as any experienced knight would tell you, a knight who has lost his forward momentum is a dead one. Stannis' infantry began to cut horses down, getting close and ripping open their bellies with their blades, while other blades sought the knights from every side. The rest of the infantry flowed around them to slam into the barely prepared infantry line behind them, much of the men in it encumbered by armor too heavy to let them move easily on foot.

Stannis slammed his sword up, shearing through a hastily raised shield to cut off the arm behind it then was forced to duck away as the horse whinnied in terror from his Lightbringer, trying to kick his head off with its front hoofs. One of the fire guards wielding a spear came up behind him slamming the point of the spear into the horse's unarmored belly.

The banner bearer had fallen out of his saddle, his horse maddened as well by Lightbringer. The banner bearer however stood his ground, cutting down three armsmen as they came against him, then cutting a fourth, a fire guard down before turning his corpse and using him as a shield against four more wielding spears.

Stannis frowned he hadn't thought that Selwyn was that good, indicating this was someone else leading his force, a pity. Nonetheless he forged forward, cutting down another knight before clashing blades with the man beside the banner. He frowned as the other man's eyes widened behind his full face helmet. "You're not Selwyn, who are you?"

"You'll get nothing from me!" The person shouted, seemingly unfazed after that initial start of surprise by the Lightbringer. Yet the voice was that of a woman, a deep voice for all that, but still a woman.

Realizing who this was, Stannis scowled. He ducked a blow from her sword, sweeping his shield against it to knock it further out of position bringing up his own blade to slam the flat of it against her head. It dented the helmet enough so that she had was forced back away, ripping it off quickly to retain her vision on that side. Besides which, in an infantry battle like this a full face helmet like that was just as deadly to the wearer as it was blinding. Peripheral vision in a battle like this was a necessity, not just a good idea.

The woman's face thus revealed was not pretty. The kindest word you could use to describe it was punkish. It was freckled, with a nose which looked as if it had been smashed in, the chin was manly, the cheeks thick. Yet for all of that the lips were that of a woman, and the eyelashes too. "Brienne of Tarth," Stannis said. "So, your father sent you to war while he remained behind?"

Letting the woman recover, he took a moment to look over the battle. Thanks to the small incline of the hill he was able to look down to see the battle ahead of him, where the forces of Tarth had been pinned against the shoreline in the ships. The men there were well and truly pinned, unable to form a line to let most of their men enter battle, his men crowding them into the sea and against the ships' sides. Their heavier armor availed the cavalry naught now, and they were being slaughtered, his own men taking one dead for every three.

Several of them were trying to board those ships again, but Lord Bolling had ordered a few of his archers to take them under fire, while the others shot fire arrows at the farthest ship from the shore. The message there was clear, and those ships weren't going anywhere. Indeed two of them had already struck colors, the two that had been hit by fire arrows already. The fact that several of the crewmen lay dead from regular arrows showed why, and the normal seaman's fear of fire.

The woman snarled and came on again. "For my Lord Baratheon!" she shouted, showing no fear of Lightbringer still. Her blade clashed with his, and Stannis was amused at how good she was, certainly better than the average armsmen or knight, but not up to his level yet. Give her a few real battles though and maybe that would've been different, he thought, moving into smashed her sword aside again before kicking her in the crotch. That works just as well for women as men, and there was no such thing as fair play in battle, something youngsters always had to learn the hard way.

"I am Lord Baratheon, my brother has no right to that lordship or to the throne, I am eldest it is my right." Stannis said, unknowingly echoing words Joffrey had said to Myrcella more than two months before in meaning if not in tone.

The woman glared up at him, trying to scrabble for her sword which she had lost when her hands went to her battered crotch, but Stannis brought his knee up into her face, then kicked her face in as she lay there until she stopped moving. Unconscious or dead, he didn't care which at this point. It wasn't the daughter he was interested in, it was the Lord, though he was afraid that his taunt had been correct, Selwyn had sent his daughter to war while staying home himself.

Stannis turned raising his burning blade into the air casting his face into a mass of shadows and light. "Your leader is gone! Surrender!"

At that, and seeing Brienne's dead or comatose body at his feet, the surviving men of Tarth and Penrose threw down their blades surrendering. A few dozen more died in the heat of battle, but generally speaking that was the end of it. Stannis' men stormed around them, several hundred racing onto the ships to capture the ships in turn. Their crews did not put up any further fight, having known the battle was over the moment fire arrows began to rain on the furthest ship from the drop-off point.

When the next day dawned Stannis found that they had taken about two-thousand two-hundred prisoners a hundred and twenty of which were sorely wounded and would not survive the day, as well as nearly two thousand horses to add to their army's train. Whether or not any of the uninjured prisoners would survive however was still in question.

Stannis let his army rest throughout the day after they had stripped the prisoners of their weapons and armor. Then at sunset Stannis had the prisoners trotted out in front of him.

Stannis sat on a makeshift throne with his fire guard arrayed on a diagonal from his throne out to either side, Melisandre standing nearby in the councilor position, while Lord Bolling and Lord Errol stood on his other side. The first group of prisoners, all knights sworn to the House of Tarth, were paraded out before them, then forced down to their knees before the throne.

At their front Brienne tried to fight, her face a mask of bruises from her beating at his hands, but two of his fire guards moved forward, smashing her down to the ground with the flats of their swords against her back. She still glared up at them defiantly, then spat at their feet before staring hard at Stannis.

Looking down at them all coldly Stannis spoke a moment after letting the silence linger. "All of you are guilty of raising arms against your true King." Brienne made to speak but Stannis held up a hand glaring at her. "The lines of succession are clear, regardless of anything else: if the older brother dies without trueborn heirs, the next oldest is his heir. Robert did not have a true heir, he has left many a by-blow, but his three children, the ones that were supposed to be true heirs, are instead the seeds of incest, spawn of the queen and her king slaying, oath breaking brother!"

There were some exclamations of shock from the prisoners at that, who unlike his own men, hadn't heard it just yet, that information not being part of Renly's propaganda, and Stannis' own not moving as quickly. He ignored that however, going on. "Therefore by law, by tradition and by destiny I am King!" With that exclamation he brought out Lightbringer again, hoping to overawe them all and get the prisoners to swear fealty to him.

"All praise the Light That Was Promised!" Melisandre said her eyes alight with religious fervor as they glared down at the prisoners. "Chosen of R'hllor!"

"You surrendered, and thus you are alive to be given a choice, swear your fealty to me and you will join my army as valued members." Stannis said now.

That was as far as he got before Brienne surged to her feet, rage giving her strength to ignore her bruises. "Never! I will never denounce the Faith! You aren't even a Baratheon anymore, your brother and your ancestors are rolling in their graves, giving yourself to some foreign tart and her God! Your soul is as black as aAGGGHH!"

Brienne screamed as fire suddenly surged from Melisandre's hand to impact her chest. One moment she was standing there shouting her defiance, then the next she was on fire, dying as it ate into her chest. Yet she did not call out in pain, no. "Seven Aid your faithful!" She screamed then barreled forward a few steps before finally collapsing several feet from her starting point while the flames consumed her.

Contrary to what Melisandre might've hoped, the death of Brienne did not dishearten the other prisoners. When Brienne fell they all shouted as one, surging to their feet and towards Stannis and the fire guard despite being unarmed, despite being tied up. They looked like madmen, fully intent on trying to take armored and armed men on with just their teeth and legs.

Stannis sighed, then slashed his hands down. Archers from all around the makeshift court fired, and his fire guard surged forward their blades rising and falling.

In the end every one of that first batch of prisoners had to be killed along with half the remainder. Somehow word had gotten out about Brienne's death, and most of them refused point blank to swear allegiance to Stannis. Instead they tried to revolt, to escape, and had to be killed by their guards.

The bloody business went on for hours, costing them the remainder of the light that day. Luckily it didn't seem to have affected Bolling and Errol's opinion about Stannis. They like him put the blame for this directly at Melisandre's feet. When informed he would be having words with her during the debacle, they both nodded, understanding. A weapon like her was useful, but she had to know her limits.

Forty minutes after the butchery ended Stannis and Melisandre entered his command tent alone. The moment they entered Stannis turned grasping her around the throat and lifting her off her feet shaking her like a dog with a rat. "You stupid bitch!" He roared.

Shaking her he went on, his voice only slightly lower but no less ferocious, letting it carry to the men, so that they knew he was laying down the law to the madwoman. "Brienne's defiance was less that empty, it would have amounted to nothing if you hadn't overreacted! We could have won a thousand more men to my cause, instead I have a thousand useless corpses, and an army that now is divided on how it sees you. The R'hllor worshippers believe you speak for their god, but the rest would see you dead if they could! You are supposed to be a hidden dagger, a threat I can use without anyone knowing how dangerous you truly are, not an overt threat, a mad bitch who burns anyone who speaks out of turn! From now on you do not burn anyone without my say so, do you understand?"

Despite having her feet a feet off the ground, Melisandre stared back at him defiantly, and under his hand Stannis could feel the jewel in her choker began to heat. But he had wielded Lightbringer for hours on end in practice, getting used to the heat of it through the pommel and he closed his grip slightly, cutting off her circulation.

The two of them stared at one another until Melisandre finally looked away bowing her head. "As you will, Azor Ahai." She croaked.

Stannis let go of her throat letting the woman massage it for a moment turning away slightly. Her breasts were heaving from the lack of air, but she let none of that show on her face. Stannis was taken with a sudden desire to throw her down and prove his dominance further on her body right there. He threw that thought off however, instead turning to more important matters. "We will leave within the hour for Penrose, I trust you will be able to create another assassin?"

Melisandre looked at him, and a sultry smirk appeared on her face as she let her hands fall from her throat down her body to rest on her hips. "I am certain that together we can do this my Lord" she said seductively.

A week later found Stannis once more marching overland towards where he had placed his fleet, thinking hard about the future. Parchments had fallen, the lord having died apparently from a heart attack in the night, with only Stannis and Melisandre knowing the truth. With that and with the men he had captured from that house having sent word at his request ahead, Parchment had opened its gates. Bolling now had a new castle, and a fair chunk of new territory to expand into after the war.

Now Stannis was debating between staying here to smash a few of the other northeastern Stormlands Lords one by one, emulating his brother's work in the Rebellion, or move to take King's Landing.

He was within sight of Haystack Hall, and he smiled seeing that Sebastion's castellan had been as good as his word, several dozen cartloads of foodstuffs were already outside, and his men gave a cheer seeing it, having marched for nearly two weeks on half rations. He would rest his men for two days here, allowing them to eat their fill and rest before deciding on a course of action. Yet even as that thought struck him, he knew what he would do.

Later that evening he announced it to his captains and lords. "We will march on Bronzegate." he said decisively. "House Buckler is strong, and their town a good resource. It and their keep are set as a choke point for any force further south in the Stormlands using the Kingsroad. I will try to persuade them to join us, but if not we will lay siege to Bronzegate until it gives over."

He did not allow his eyes to stray to Melisandre, who smiled a small secretive smile and said. "Only the foolish or the suicidal will stand against the Azor Ahai, especially with the examples of House Tarth and Penrose to call upon." She had taken the time the evening after the battle to pickle Brienne's head, and that and the banners of the two houses would do to show what happened to the last people who tried to fight Stannis.

"I agree house Buckler will make a good addition to our cause sire, but besieging Bronzegate will take months. Luck has been on our side so far, if we try that…" Lord Bolling shrugged.

Stannis nodded. "True, but Lord Buckler is practical, much like you are Lord Errol. And house Fell on its other side is certain to have sided with my brother Renly. I understand that Buckler has always coveted that land…"

Lord Bolling and Sebastion both frowned at that thought, knowing how strong adding that land to its own would make Buckler. At the moment they were one of the richest houses in the Stormlands, sitting on the Kingsroad which was the best trading road into or out of the Stormlands. The town Bronzegate also gave them access to artificers, metal workers, and cloth makers.

Not a trained force, though they could raise a decent sized defensive levee, but what armsmen they had, possibly three thousand or so, were well armed, equipped and trained. Much better than Bolling's men in the main, or the majority of the men Stannis had taken from the navy if not Dragonstone itself. Errol could more than match their numbers and training even from the men they had fielded already, but not the equipment.

After a moment Sebastion nodded. "A promise of some position, and if House Fell does raise arms for Lord Renly your protection against them and the promise of their land after the war might be enough to tempt Ralph Buckler, true."

"Then what my Lord?" asked Lord Bolling. "And what about House Tarth?"

"Hmm… I will send Davos down after we meet up in Dragonstone to burn out Tarth's port. No port, no way for them to rejoin the war, and we can deal with them at our leisure. For now, if Bronzegate comes over peacefully we will reinforce it is much as possible. Bronzegate is not only a town, it is one of the more powerful castles in the Stormlands. We can use it as a bottleneck to block further troops being sent the easiest way around the mountains into the Crownlands and Reach via the Kingsroad. That will force them to go overland through the kingswood, which will slow my brother's muster from the Stormlands.

"But not from the Reach my Lord." said Sebastion frowning, looking worried.

"True, but the Reach's army will be large and slow, we will retain our small size for now, it will allow us to outmaneuver them." Indeed they only had about sixteen thousand men at this point. "We will soon join with several other houses, I have sent the Onion Knight to Sharp Point and Stonedance, and we will meet them at Dragonstone."

"We are to take to the ocean then," said Lord Bolling, looking a little ill at the thought, while Sebastion merely nodded.

"Yes, we will march to meet my fleet where I left the ships along the shoreline at the nearest point to Haystack Hall. With it and the ships taken from House Tarth who we'll meet there, we can transport our forces to Duskendale. House Rykker will not wish to fight us; Duskendale isn't a defensible position, the port is far too open for that. It will allow us to land our forces quickly and we will march into the Riverlands. I have already sent a message to House Tully demanding their aid."

Stannis hadn't stayed in Dragonstone long enough for word to reach him of all that had happened in King's Landing, so he only had Melisandre's information about the Wolves and the Dragon Queen. He had no idea that the king had Edmure, and so fully expected to meet forces from the Riverlands as soon as possible.

"We will meet them on the Kingsroad near the Trident, and from there march down to King's Landing to put it under siege, smashing any Lannister force that Tywin has put into the field by this point on our way." He had other thoughts along those lines, using a few connections that Seaworth had with a few pirate lords might give them another avenue of attack. Or even make overtures to the Ironborn to see if he could convince them to attack Lannisport for him, force Tywin to turn back. The main point was that right now he didn't want to be bogged down in taking castle after castle or convincing lord after lord to join him.

No, he who held King's Landing held the throne. Once he had the throne, his brother would be certain to surrender, and he could make overtures to House Tyrell. He knew that they would have already demanded Renly take Margaery to wife, but offering his daughter to Willas for marriage would offset that. With their neutrality secured Renly would only have the Stormlands and not even all of them to call upon. With those two facts and King's Landing under his older brother's thumb he would surrender Renly was not want to risk his life if he had no chance of winning.

The plan took a few more hours to hammer out, mostly about how much food would be sent by Errol with the army, but as an outline it would do. In the end house Buckler would indeed joined them. In return for House Fell's land if they rose against Lord Stannis, and the heir's position on King Stannis' fire guard they agreed and bowed to Stannis allowing him to turn around quickly after investing the Castle with another two thousand men pulled from all his loyal houses with a thousand coming from Dragonstone itself.

With that, the Stormlands were broken into two pieces, and Stannis was on his way back to the shoreline to meet his navy, with his younger brother as yet none the wiser.

OOOOOOO

Dacey woke up in pain and with the feeling in her mouth as if a skunk had taken up residence in it. She groaned, moving the shoulder above where the ice sword had pierced her side finding she couldn't at the same time she began to open her eyes, trying to sit up.

"Stay put girl." Olis' gruff voice interrupted her efforts, and a firm, but gentle hand pressed her upper body back down. "None of that. What's the last thing you remember?"

"I..." Dacey croaked, then paused as Olis held a cup of water to her lips. She drank greedily, then began again. "I remember feeling feverish, and it getting worse every day on the way back to Norrey territory. That, that's about all I can remember."

"That would be because you apparently collapsed halfway back my friend." A deep voice she knew very well spoke up from nearby, and Dacey turned her eyes in that direction to see Hathan, leaning against the doorway of the room she was resting in. "Something in the wound was fighting the healing process, much like Ranma's arm when he was struck by the Ice giant's club during the ambush. If not for Olis you would have succumbed to whatever it was Dacey."

"Bah, her pushing herself on as she did almost did as much to kill her as whatever it was in the wound." Olis shook his head. "Still don't know what it was, but the poultices I made were able to keep it at bay, and we forced you to sweat it out, whatever it was."

"Thank you Olis, I, I didn't… thank you." For all her courage in battle, Dacey was deathly afraid of dying from illness. "I don't know how I can ever repay you."

"How about by not undoing my good work by moving around too quickly." Olis grumped, but she could see he wore a slight smile under his beard.

Moments later he left, and she turned to Hathan. "How did I get here, and where is here?"

"You're in my holdfast, Dacey. The mountain clans have a system where they use a series of runners to pass on important messages, the Norrey got a message down to me, and I and men of my household road out to meet their party with as many extra horses as we could and a gurney for you. You've been here for a few days now."

Dacey nodded. "Good, that will mean passing on my news will be that much easier."

"True, though perhaps not for just the reason you think." At Dacey's inquisitive look, Hathan smiled grimly through his well-trimmed handlebar mustache. "Lord Stark, Ranma and his sister are back from down south." He went on from there to explain what was going on, and Dacey's eyes narrowed grimly. "So we have some time for you to get better, we're waiting for the barges carrying Lord Umber and Lord Karstark's men down from Long Lake. After that, well, we'll have to see what Ranma plans."

OOOOOOO

The trip upriver to the nearest point where the course of the White Knife took them to Winterfell was an extremely nice, sleepy, six days. During the morning, Ranma spent time with his sister, Myrcella and the others, exchanging stories and listening to what Myrcella wanted to do with her life going forward if she could. She had decided she wanted to be a healer, and had raided the rooms of Lord Manderly's former maester for his tomes on healing. She spent most of the afternoon reading, taking small, neat notes on sheets of parchment Wyman had given her. The idea of talking to the former master, her distant family member, had never even occurred to her.

Needless to say of course she would need to remain near Ranma, since he had promised to look after her but Ranma and Eddard were very supportive of her interest. Alayaya on the other hand wasn't certain what she wanted to do. Yes, she could play at the handmaiden for Daenerys and a fine needlewoman for Merry, but she missed the excitement of being a spy, of stretching her mind and concentration like that. Yet it would be a long time if ever before she could utilize those skills. Alayaya was a city girl, utterly at sea out in the country and her odds of fitting in outside a town or city were nil.

During the afternoon Ranma and Fenris left the boat to hunt, with the two draklings sometimes sent into the air to practice flying and hunting by Daenerys, who remained in firm control of them when they were in the air. Like Ranma and his more experienced siblings, she had to deal with some of the backsplash from that connection during moments of high emotion, and when the two draklings made their first kill under Fenris' direction was one such moment.

Fenris had scared a medium-sized elk out of the deep woods, a young buck that had probably been part of a herd before going off on its own. After stalking it for some time, he started herding it back towards the river at a diagonal, into a small opening in the forest which normally crowded the edge of the river. The elk broke out into cover, it's breathing ragged and its eyes widen and terrified.

The draklings had been circling above. Somehow understanding Fenris' instructions, they had remained in that area, sending thoughts back to Daenerys of waiting ant anticipation. For a moment they froze as the prey animal burst out of the woods below them, its size and sudden presence startling them. After a second however instinct kicked in and Rhaegon and Sunfyre plummeted down, fangs and claws bared.

Back on the boat Daenerys gasped, her hands almost unconsciously gripping like the draklings' claws as they used slammed down onto the back of the elk, which was larger than they by more than a bit, their claws gouging into its back, teeth seeking its neck. She gasped again and again, then shook her head as the feeling of still warm red blood hit her senses, but a soft touch on Daenerys' shoulder broke her out of it.

"Easy," Ranma said his voice understanding, knowing what she was feeling. He had lost himself in the hunt a few times with Fenris, particularly after the hunt became a fight with another predator. Overall he felt it made their bond stronger, but it was incredibly disconcerting the first few times.

Daenerys shook her head, coming back into herself much faster than Ranma had. Of course unlike Ranma she had experience with overwhelming emotions coming from the draklings along with sensations that she had no experience with. Flying with them had prepared her for this quite a bit more than running did with Fenris for Ranma. After all, even now he could still outpace his direwolf if he really tried. Whereas no human could fly under their own power.

"Is it always like that?" Daenerys asked gasping a little.

"You'll get better at sensing when you need to start pulling out of the connection." Ranma said nodding his head. "I tend to ride Fenris right up until the moment he spooks whatever prey he's after or goes in for the kill. That's actually tougher if I'm honest. Fenris likes to go after bears, something about showing them who's boss I think, and after riding his brain in a fight, even helping him a time or two, it was much harder to pull away when it came time for the fight to end.

"I can understand that, flying with my draklings is…." she shivered a little but it was not from the cold. "It's utterly magnificent, I don't have any words to describe it."

"I suppose for a normal person running with Fenris would be the same thing, but I have a bit of an advantage there." Ranma laughed, putting his arms around Daenerys's stomach and holding her tight. "Keep a light touch on them, I have no idea how they'll respond after their first kill, young ones are unpredictable."

Daenerys nodded, leaning against his shoulder as she closed her eyes once more concentrating on the link between herself, Sunfyre and Rhaegon. Luckily it seemed as if the hunt itself was more important to the draklings than the kill. Ranma and Daenerys were uncertain why that was, maybe the draklings just didn't have as well developed taste buds as a direwolf did, but it was much easier to get control of the two draklings after they had eaten their fill than Ranma had feared.

That became the routine, with the two draklings exercising from after the humans had lunch to when the sun began to go down, flying, hunting and occasionally, very occasionally practicing with their flames. It was only occasionally because Ranma and Daenerys were very firm that they did not want to cause any sudden forest fires, and along the river the forest was often almost straight up against the bank.

The nights were given over to further discussions between all of those on the boat on various topics, most notably the power of river travel. Ranma and Daenerys had a lot of thoughts about that, most importantly the idea of channels, which were heavily in use in Dorne and in Essos, but never so much elsewhere on Westeros. Brynden too was enthusiastic about the idea, seeing what they could mean for the Riverlands. Eddard also saw the point of them and work like that done on the White Knife, in particular in the North.

They had a bit of an argument about where however such a project should be started. Eddard felt that with the infrastructure already in place that creating a channel to lead toward Winterfell from the white knife at its nearest point to the castle was an obvious solution, which would make transportation to and from White Harbor even faster.

Daenerys on the other hand felt that was unnecessary. The nearest point was only four days travel by horse drawn cart since the tributary by castle Cerwyn was too narrow for large barge traffic (small traffic and logs were a different story), and barely a day on any regular horse. What was more, the trip according to what everyone else was easy-going. Even Sansa had been there before, visiting House Wells.

On the other hand, the Last River passed through house Umber's land, and could be used to get goods down to the ocean and from there elsewhere in the North. Since house Umber was one of the two houses that produced the most coal in the North, and with winter coming up that would become very important, it was not only an economically sound maneuver, but a necessity. The other house that produced a lot of coal, House Flint of Flint's Finger had no rivers, few places and no money to pay for ports on the Saltspear. They also had very little in the way of manpower, and therefore no easy way to get their coal, much like their other resources of tin and copper, to anyone else.

With Eddard and the others as arbitrator the discussion continued. This was a task he took to with a small smile on his face, always amused by the way these two seemed to be perfect foils for one another. Eventually the rest of them were swayed by Daenerys' arguments but Eddard added a caveat. "It's an interesting idea, but Greatjon might not go for it. He'd probably prefer to be on hand to oversee it, and trying to keep him away from the campaign in the south is going to be an exercise in futility."

Ranma laughed in agreement with Smalljon who nodded. "We Umber men all love a good fight." He said smirking.

That conversation ended the evening, and it ended up as all evenings on the river did, with Daenerys and Ranma going off alone on the boat to find a quiet place where they could have some time together. They were careful never to do anything untoward, but it was certainly taxing their self-restraint to keep to that. It was fueled and helped along by Daenerys' unwillingness to rub their relationship into Merry's face, knowing how the young girl felt about Ranma. She had come to understand over the time on the Fish's Scales that Myrcella truly did love Ranma, and was of two minds about it.

On the one hand, she got along well with Myrcella herself, seeing the younger girl almost as a surrogate sister not just a handmaiden or even a friend, someone she could laugh and joke about in ways she would never consider joking about with Ranma (a very short list admittedly but still there). But on the other, she was concerned about what would happen there. It was almost a certainty that they would receive word from the tower that Myrcella was illegitimate, after which she would lose much of her rights, and all of her standing in the eyes of society this side of the Dornish mountains. But that would mean her wellbeing would depend even more on Ranma than was the case now, which meant Merry would be around the two for years, maybe her entire life.

Still, that was a problem for the future. Right now the girl seemed happy for her, able to move past her own jealousy, and Daenerys would do the same. She was not a scared little girl, uncertain of her position or power. She was the Dragon Queen, the woman who had brought dragons to life, and with Ranma by her side, the two of them would change Westeros.

Three days into the journey they reached the fork where the White Knife split, a portion of it going via a tributary towards House Cerwyn, while the main river continued heading up towards Long Lake. As they passed the fork they could see several small river boats being kept there, and an odd sort of doorway set over the water, keeping them from entering with several guardsmen posted there. One man, who was most probably the one in charge wore the colors of House Poole on his tabard. He waved his hand at the boat coming up the river.

In response Sansa, who was at the front of the barge, waved back somewhat sadly, remembering Jeyne's death. The sight of her caused murmurs from the men on the other barges as they recognized her and beside her Ranma and their father. The news of their arrival evidently hadn't gotten this far, Lord Manderly not sharing who was traveling up the river that was worth halting down river traffic, just giving the order.

The man grinned "Welcome home Lord Stark, there's been a few changes as you can see!"

Eddard actually laughed, raising his good arm in reply. He still couldn't move his other arm without pain, something that would no doubt be with him for the rest of his life, and his leg was still dead to any commands he tried to give it, though for now it could still hold his weight with aid. He recognized the man, so when he replied it was with his name. "So I see Helden!"

But by that point they were almost out of shouting distance. Behind them the doorway so swung open on either side allowed in the barges that had been piled up there to start their way down river herding timber down to White Harbor.

Three days after that they arrived at the stopping point for Winterfell, which had been heavily built-up. House Wells had poured in its resources and the resources of their lords, and the result was a small dock area, with space enough for four barges to load and unload, a large cart area, and equally large barn for trained reindeer, which did the same job as horses would for cart pulling here in the North. Their holdfast too, which was near the new construction, was in the process of being reinforced.

Lord Wells came out to clasp forearms with Eddard and Ranma, bowing grandly to Sansa. "It's good to see you all safe and home. I have transportation available for all of you, a cart and horses." he said, though his eyes kept tracking to Daenerys awe in his face at the two draklings, who were leaning against her sides as they stared around at the many four-legged animals around them.

This was only the second time they had seen even horses after all, the first being in White Harbor, and up to this point they had killed two wild elk, which looked and smelled similar to these new four-legged things. But Daenerys had been very firm with them that any four-legged one who had humans around was not for eating. It was the best she could do, but thankfully they weren't actually hungry at present, merely curious.

An hour later, the party moved on with the two drakling in a cart whose nervous reindeer was being led by Ranma on foot with Fenris beside him, growling lightly whenever the beast tried to bolt. Eddard had insisted on riding a horse, but he had to be tied into the saddle, unable to grip the saddle with one of his legs.

With only one cart with them, they made excellent time to Winterfell, only taking two days to cover the distance larger carts would take four to do. Of course word had been sent ahead that they were coming. They met a force of 20 men riding out from Winterfell, with Jon at their head, his face broken by an uncharacteristic grin. He swung down from his horse, laughing as he pounced on Ranma. The two brothers embraced, slapping one another on the back while the aerial and Smalljon looked on with Daryn, both of them grinning. "By the old gods it's good to see you brother!" Jon said.

Ranma nodded "You too, Jon, damn, you too!"

Jon turned, exchanging a much more restrained hug with his father as well, reaching up to do so, Eddard not having left the saddle. "Father, it is good to see you too!" Eddard nodded his heart in his throat at the warm welcome from his foster son. He only hoped Jon would take the news of his parentage as well as Eddard hoped. A moment later Jon released Eddard only to find his hands full of Sansa a moment later, the girl trying desperately not to cry, while Jon blinked, not having expected this warm a welcome from her.

Looking at the two young men together Daenerys could see both their similarities and their differences, and smiled faintly. Ranma in her opinion was much more handsome. Jon was a little too Stark in his features for her, those blue eyes of Ranma and the smile lines on his face offset those features in him, and she disliked facial hair. The well-trimmed goatee Jon had was most definitely not to her liking.

Jon broke the hug moments later, looking over at Fenris and Ghost, growling and yapping at one another quietly sitting side-by-side. Fenris was a good head taller than ghost, and somewhat more muscled at the shoulders, but other than that and their coloring they were very much alike, and slightly larger than normal war horses. He leaned in close, nodding his head at the direwolves. "Ghost knew you had arrived and nearby before any of us knew, even for the messenger from House Wells reached us. I think they sort of took over the local wolf packs and forced them to pass on messages at some point."

"Wouldn't surprise me." Ranma murmured back smiling faintly.

"And this is the Stormborn?" Jon asked looking over at Daenerys. He bowed his head slightly to her. "Milady." He looked at the draklings and shook his head. "Wonders both good and ill walk this world it seems."

"Your brother has told me a lot about you Jon Snow." She said taking his forearm like a warrior would rather than holding out her hand to be kissed. "I hope to get to know you further, he holds you in high regard. I hope you're capable of helping me keep Ranma out of trouble as he seems to think. It is most definitely a full-time job."

Jon turned with to Ranma with a smirk on his face. Ranma laughed and Jon grinned, putting his arm around his brother once more in a fierce one-armed hug. After that he turned back to his father, his eyes still shining with joy at seeing all three back and relatively whole. His eyes had not missed the fact that Eddard couldn't put much pressure on his one leg, which hung limply in the saddle.

Moving back to his horse, Jon laughed. "We should get on or else several people will wish to box my ears for me. Lady Stark and the rest of the family are anxiously waiting your arrival."

Eddard's smile at hearing about his wife and family shattered his normal stone face, and his eyes gleamed with eagerness.

Not two hours later they arrived at Winterfell. The bugles of horns announcing their presence, and the shouts of the smallfolk of the small town rang in their ears as they made their way through it to the castle. The town was nearly full, not because of the impending winter, though every Northmen knew it was only a bare few years or so away at best, but because the workers were needed here for various projects. Even during their arrival the clamor of blacksmith hammers could be heard, and other work continued. Inside Winterfell however work had stopped, and all of the servants and castle denizens had come out to greet the returning Lord.

But not the lords who had already arrived at Catelyn's call. Hearing of their impending arrival, Medger Cerwyn and the others who had arrived already, Glover, Hornwood, Mormont, and Ryswell, had all decided to give the Starks the rest of the day to themselves, heading to castle Cerwyn for the day. Many of their men had already been moved to Cerwyn, allowing the army being mustered to be spread between the two castles and not burdening Winterfell or Cerwyn with their full numbers.

At the head of the family was Lady Catelyn, her eyes shining with tears as she saw her husband and oldest children returned to her alive. In her arms she carried the baby that was yet to be named, though not for much longer while on either side stood Arya, Bran and Rickon, with maester Luwin behind them one hand on either boys shoulder, holding them still as both of them vibrated in place with happiness at seeing their older siblings and father returned.

Luwin's placement near Bran was not by chance;Bran's mind had been a treasure to the maester ever since he woke up. Every good teacher desires to have a student who is capable of surpassing them, capable of taking what is taught to a whole new level, and in Bran maester Luwin had that student. His ideas had been the Maesters delight to cultivate, and he had enjoyed immensely the little group of thinkers that the young man had brought together, who stood behind Luwin now as Winterfell welcomed its lord home.

The entire family was grinning widely as Jon and Ranma led the troop in, with Fenris and Ghost speeding along ahead of them. The rest of the pack met them and Fenris led them to one side to allow the human to have their own reunion while he and his family had their own.

Eddard road ahead of his two sons, his eyes locked on Catelyn while his hands were busy untying his body from the saddle, before looking to either side at his children joy at seeing Brand awake and moving around with his own eyes clear on his face. Working the reins he brought his horse to a halt before his family and then with difficulty got himself out of the saddle. A stern look at Ranma stopped him from moving to help, and Ranma shrugged his shoulders but stood nearby just in case.

Catelyn strode forward, curtsying gracefully to her husband. "My husband, I'm happy to see you home, your family and castle has…" At that point Eddard had had enough of the formal greeting, and pulled Catelyn into his arms kissing her thoroughly to the cheers of the jubilant crowd around them.

She should've been shocked at this breach of propriety, not just the public showing of affection, which Catelyn always saw as rather uncouth. She should've been, but she was not. It had been many long months since Catelyn had last seen her husband, since she had last been able to touch him, and most of those days had been spent worrying for his safety as well as that of her eldest children. Propriety, she felt, could go hang this once.

This seemed to be a signal, and the rest of the family raced forward, gathering around Ranma and Sansa hugging them both ecstatically. Even Arya hugged Sansa and jabbered into her ear about how happy she was to see her, something that Sansa would never have thought of her younger sibling. They weren't exactly close after all before she left, simply being too different. Yet that didn't matter at all right now and she returned the hugs all around fiercely, crying happily.

Daenerys watched with Smalljon and Daryn beside her as the family was reunited. She smiled, her own eyes misting slightly while next to her Myrcella was looking on in sadness, knowing her own family, while never that happy with one another, would never be the same now. Then Rickon and Sansa reached out for her pulling Merry in as well. Whatever else, Sansa valued Myrcella as her dearest friend, and she was making certain that all of her family and their retainers knew it in no uncertain terms.

Myrcella smiled happily as she exchanged hugs with the younger boys, though Arya avoided her slightly, simply patting her on the shoulder before moving on to Brynden. "Great Uncle Brynden?" She asked, staring up at the gray haired man.

The older man smiled down at her. "Aye lass that'd be me. Your father and siblings described you well, though you are much taller than I thought. Come here child." Arya laughed and hugged the older man tightly. The strength in the girl startled Brynden. She was wiry and limber of arm and leg, and he could actually feel the muscles under her skin, something he had never felt hugging any other woman or girl.

With Sansa leading the young siblings over Brynden was soon surrounded by his niece's family. With that Arya left them to it moving on to the most interesting newcomer, Daenerys. She took in the long knife at the older girl's waist, her silver hair bound up in a braid at the moment, the sparkling violet eyes and the way she stood with Jon and the other wolfsworn around her, before moving forward, holding out her hand to shake.

Daenerys clasped it in a warrior's grip. "You must be Arya, you're siblings told me a lot about you. Which one of those is yours can I ask?" she said tilting her head towards where the direwolves were getting reacquainted, roughhousing with one another exchanging senses and yips, communicating at a level neither human nor normal wolf would be able to follow though derived from both.

There seemed to be a bit of a moment over there just then. The shaggiest looking one growled and went for Fenris' throat in something a little too serious for play but just as he did, Fenris smacked him aside easily, then grabbed him by the back scruff, shaking him lightly but pointedly. Nymeria, Ghost and Summer looked on in something that looked remarkably like vexed amusement at their fellow's ill fortune.

"The third biggest one, the one with a bit of her right ear missing, her name's Nymeria." That had happened a few weeks ago, when the two of them were on their last hunting trip with Meera before the Reed girl had to leave with her brother. Nymeria had accidentally gone after a mother fox who was protecting her cubs. The bit of ear was a small price to pay considering that if she had been a normal wolf she might have well been completely overmatched by the enraged mother.

"What about the two dragons?" Arya asked, looking at the two animals, her main interest in coming over this way and leaving the mushy welcoming stuff behind her. Normally she would not have been so welcoming of a strange girl, but the little beasts were really amazing looking.

"This is Sunfyre and Rhaegon." Daenerys said nodding to the two draklings who were curled up on the ground behind her, following her stern injunctions to be on their best behavior, their eyes watching all the odd humans around them.

"Can they fly already?" Arya excitedly asked, kneeling down in front of them.

Sunfyre was the friendlier of the two, and he leaned his neck upright to stare into her eyes. This one smelled much like queen-mother's mate, though female. Not like the other female whose head fur was the color of flame and who was good with the scratching, but similar enough that Sunfyre realized that this was a new family member. That was all right, so long as she didn't try to give him orders like the queen-mother, he would let her close.

Rhaegon was not as friendly, and remained where he lay staring up at her but did not strike out.

"Yes they can fly!" Daenerys said laughing. "That was an experience let me tell you. In fact, I believe your brother will have many a tale to tell you of our adventures getting up here. Trust me, It has been quite an experience." She knelt down to scratch Rhaegon behind his skull right at the base of his neck, causing the little draklings eyes to close in pleasure. "Though I understand that you've had a few adventures here as well? Ranma mentioned something about some battle that occurred here a few weeks after he left? And you're training with Jon?"

Nearby the married couple broke apart and Eddard laid his forehead against Catelyn's. "By the old gods and by the Seven it is good to be home my lady. If I have my way I am never leaving again."

He turned in her arms, and Catelyn's eyes narrowed a little as she noticed his wince at even that slight movement. "If I have my way you're not leaving either." she replied in a low, tart tone. She smiled as the little bundle in her arms began to make itself known again having woken up from his nap with all the noise and shouting. It cried out, and she held the babe up removing a bit of blanket so that Eddard could look down into it. "My Lord, may I present our son."

Her eyes lit up as they always did when she watched her husband with her children. Say what you would about the agony of going through the whole birthing process but Catelyn was one of nature's mother's and Eddard, for all of his sternness was just as good a father. He brushed a finger along the baby's silk smooth cheek and the baby quieted, reaching up with his two little hands to grasp Eddard's finger staring up at him.

The babe's hair seemed a dark red, a mix of Stark brown and Tully red, and his eyes seemed to be a mix of Tully blue and Stark brown, deeper and darker than Ranma's or Catelyn's, but not quite the shade of Rickon. There was no blemish on his face, no blemish on any part of his body Eddard could see and his eyes, which had been wrinkled in tears, were now wide and inquisitive looking up at this strange man.

"What shall we call him my Lord?" Catelyn asked, leaned her head against his good shoulder.

Eddard raised his newest son in his arm smiling faintly as the baby tried to nibble on his finger. "I believe we should name him after your father my lady, I think that is the best idea. He will be Hoster Stark."

Catelyn's eyes widened. She had thought that Eddard would pick a name from his family or from Northern tradition. But then her eyes misted over at this show of compassion. "I like that just fine my Lord." she murmured, looking down at the babe with him. "My little Hoster."

After a moment she turned to stare at where Myrcella was being still hugged by Rickon, while Bran was laughing at something the princess had said, his own arms around a Laughing Ranma, frowning slightly at the site. The Lannister golden hair of the girl made her want to growl like one of her family's pets, but she refrained looking at the girl and the expression on her face as she was welcomed as if she was part of the family.

She looked over to where Daenerys and Arya were talking, exchanging excited talk about something, with Arya demonstrating a sword thrust of some sort while Daenerys nodded, pointing to where ice was resting on Ranma's back. The sight of the two draklings behind the Stormborn girl startled and terrified Catelyn for what they could represent. Catelyn was happy that they were on her side, but unhappy that they were alive at all, she could all too easily remember the stories of what happened to the people burned alive by the Mad King, and she had never been as good about not allowing her hate to splash on the rest of the family as her husband was. And the sight of the little draklings was adding to that worry all the more despite the fact that they seemed docile enough.

At that point Ranma finished hugging his siblings. He moved over to pick up Catelyn in his arms hugging her tightly. "Mother it's good to be home! And who's this?" he said looking down at the little baby.

Catelyn smiled up at her oldest son, reaching down and hugging his head to her chest, while at the same time admonishing him to set her down. When he did,she leaned in whispering into his ear. "Thank you for bringing your sister and your father home." She knew somehow that it had been Ranma's presence that enabled them to get home at all, though she was still in the dark as to what they had actually faced, or that Ranma had gone into King's Landing and rescued Sansa. That tale she would hear later that evening and it would nearly cause her to break down and gives thanks to the Seven that her son was so skilled, though she still had no idea where those skills had originally come from.

"They're my family to you know." Ranma said with a chuckle in his voice, kissing her cheek before pulling back, one hand under her arm as he gestured to Daenerys to come forward. She did so breaking off her conversation with Arya to come forward curtsying to the lady of the house despite the leggings she wore. "Mother, may I present Daenerys Targaryen, my fiancée."

And just like that nearly all of Catelyn's good feelings began to fade.

OOOOOOO

Later that evening at dinner, Eddard told the entire castle that he was stepping down as Lord Stark. Ranma then swiftly installed him as steward of Winterfell, where Ned would have control over the day-to-day running of the keep while Ranma left for war. After tales were exchanged among the family, eliciting much exclamations of shock at the Shadow Warriors and the perfidy of the Queen, Catelyn organized where Myrcella and Daenerys were to stay.

Daenerys got her own apartment with Alayaya embedded there as her handmaiden while Myrcella was put in Sansa's bedroom next-door. It was much the same as she had left it, which pleased Sansa no end. After the events at King's Landing what Sansa wished was to return to the life she had led here previously, though she knew that the memories would never allow that.

After the dinner broke up, Catelyn showed Daenerys and Alayaya to their room, then made a beeline to Ned's study, where she knew her husband and sons would opened up the conversation between them with an opening volley the moment the door shut behind her. "My son, I realize you are quite taken with the Targaryen girl but surely you must understand that your hand in marriage is a massive diplomatic tool! I realize that having her on our side is a good thing, but it will also paint you as one of their loyalists, it will affect how other families see you, how they see us and our cause, and close many doors that would otherwise be open! Besides, what can she really bring to you? The draklings are too young to be of any use at the moment."

"You'd be surprised." Ranma said laughing quietly, moving forward to hug her again before moving back, taking up a chair at the desk beside Jon, a map spread out between the two of them and Eddard. "We only gave you the bare bones of our battles earlier mother. The draklings can already breathe fire, and proved their worth against the Shadow Warriors and against the boats of the pirates. So while they might be of limited ability now, eventually they will be a force no one else can match save her brother, and I sure as hell will not be allying with him."

That forced Catelyn to nod. If the draklings were already able to breathe fire, then they were indeed a military force already, one that would grow as they did.

"Besides," Ranma went on. "Just as Daenerys might close some doors, she will open others. There are loyalist lords everywhere, and not all of them fought in the war. She will give us legitimacy in the eyes of many down south. And if the choice is between taking the throne myself with Daenerys at my side, or backing Renly the coward or Stannis our enemy, then I'll do it."

If Tommy were still alive I would be happy to simply be Lord Paramount once we removed Joffrey from his throne and from his life because with Tommy alive neither Renly or Stannis could ever be king. But I still would have married Daenerys. I've always wanted to marry for love, and the draklings are just a very large bonus.

The thought of Tommy and his death brought a familiar pang of grief and rage to Ranma, and he once again vowed that Joffrey's death would be the stuff of legends if Ranma could get his hands on him. While they might not have been related, much like Myrcella Tommy had become family to Ranma, and anyone who fucked with his family was going to die. Or perhaps not quite like Myrcella, the insidious part of his mind said, remembering how she had made his body react during that hug they shared after he rescued Sansa.

He drove that thought out of his mind quickly, the image of Daenerys flirting with him helping him quite a lot there. He was brought back to the here and now by his mother speaking up again, changing the subject for now. She was not happy, and Catelyn doubted inside that she would ever be happy with the idea of the girl being her daughter-in-law, not after what the Mad King did to Brandon. But Ranma was right, the draklings were a force that no one else could match.

She was not so sanguine about Ranma declaring himself King, and was glad to hear that he was not going to pronounce it himself, but let it simply come up in the conclave naturally. She felt they should back Renly, who while not having the strongest legal claim was certainly the best candidate of the three.

But her husband, uncle and son had been adamant about that at dinner: the cowardice of Renly needed to be answered, and he was the one that needed to open overtures in that direction. He had to come to them to apologize for his cowardice and for the fact that if he hadn't run this war might not have started at all, or at the least not be as bad as it was going to become, before the Starks even considered backing him.

"I have something to show you both," Catelyn said changing the subject for now. She pulled out a Raven message, with the signal of Riverrun on it. "My father sent this to me. My brother is captive in King's Landing, so you will hear no argument from me that you need to march. That kind of dishonor needs to be repaid, but worse my father's health is fading badly."

Catelyn paused, her lips trembling. He had been very blunt about it, saying that he had barely months to live at best, and most of the message had been a last goodbye from father to daughter. Another message had come with it with her uncle's name on it but she had not opened that one. She hoped, prayed that it was a sign of reconciliation between the two, but it was doubtful that even at an army's best speed that her uncle could reach Riverrun before her father died. And even if they did, what they might find there was questionable.

"He names you as his voice my son, acting in his name until my brother is freed. And if anything should happened to Edmure while in Lannister captivity, my father names you his heir."

Ranma's eyes widened at that, then narrowed in thought and he nodded. "I was going to aid them anyway if it was needed, you know that but that will be a help once we get down into the Riverlands."

His mother nodded, visibly pushing her grief to one side. She had one last question she wanted to ask tonight, then she wanted to retire. It had been any incredibly emotional day, and she needed some time alone with her husband. "Before I take my husband away for the evening..." Catelyn paused smiling as her uncle chuckled at that, though her sons looked rather pained.

Like all children Jon and Ranma didn't like the idea of their parents doing anything physical like that with each other. She found a little bit of vindictive pleasure in that, after he had so easily shot down her objections to his fiancée.

After a moment she went on. "The Lords Mormont, Cerwyn, Ryswell, Glover and Hornwood have already arrived, they are spending the evening at Cerwyn to give us this time. Lords Karstark and Umber were going to take the new river passage down from the Long Lake, but should be here within a week. Hathan Shieldarm will be arriving with them I think, he contacted us yesterday with a message that said the Flints had passed on a message from the Norrey clan asking him to wait for them, I don't know why. And with that gentlemen, I bid you goodnight."

With that she turned, and after helping Eddard to his feet the two of them left heading towards their room, the lords bedroom, since Ranma had refused to change the sleeping arrangements.

Behind them Ranma shuddered a little then went downstairs with Jon. Jon pulled out one of his short swords, passing it over to Ranma. " That's an example of the blades we're turning out here thanks to Bran and his special furnace and the iron that Hathan found. I'm not surprised Hathan was willing to wait for the Norrey clan for more than one reason."

He briefly explained the mission he had sent Dacey on, and Ranma nodded, understanding that the message from the mountain clan might mean Dacey was back. He was a little worried about that, since this would put his past lover and current fiancé/future lover in the same place, something no man was really prepared for. Still, he was happy to hear that Dacey had returned from the dangerous mission.

Jon knew what his brother was thinking, but instead of commenting on it went on. "Besides that, I know Hathan wanted to put someone in place to command his new holdfast, but frankly he's not happy with his decision. The man he's chosen is inexperienced in the extreme, even if he is personable and intelligent enough to do it."

Ranma nodded, staring back down at the blade Jon had handed him then going into a few katas in the middle of the hall. After a moment he nodded "this is an excellent weapon, by the old gods Bran's helped us more with his mind than any ten thousand swords could." He turned his eyes back to Jon. "So, Arya, she looks good, I take it she took to her continued training as well as she has before this? I bet you have some plan there, and I bet it's the same as mine."

His brother smiled, nodding, his head, and then sighed theatrically. "Lady Catelyn won't be happy." Ranma shrugged philosophically, and then they both laughed.

OOOOOOO

The lords returned late the next day and were welcomed by Ranma in his new persona as Lord Stark. After greeting them all he took Lord Glover over to one side, and informed the man of Daenerys' presence, as well as her two draklings. At first the man looked fit to attack him, he had lost his uncle to the Mad King and any mention of the Targaryen family would set him off. But Ranma calmly explained what had happened, and told the man some of the rest of what had went on down south.

Galbart was a late-middle-aged man, with prematurely grey hair and a mind more at home with law and managing disputes than war, he could easily see the upside to having dragons on their own side, especially if there was a chance her brother might return to Westeros with one of his own.

Later, after getting all the lords sequestered in their rooms, giving them a bit of information but putting off most of their questions with multiple refrains of 'I don't want to say it over and over again, wait until the conclave', Ranma was finally able to say hello to one of his other friends. "Roger." Ranma said, gripping the other man's arm tightly, thumping him on his shoulder. "How are you? I'm surprised that you didn't bring what's her face, the wildling woman with you."

"She wanted to come, most particularly when we found out there might be war in the offing, but she's a little too far into her pregnancy for that." Roger said rather complacently with a smug smile on his face. It remained to be seen if his wife, (she still had a problem with the removal of the word spear before that), wouldn't be coming after him eventually, but for now she was safe in his house's castle.

Jon and the others crowded around, thumping his back and shaking his hands in congratulations. "I'm not the only one!" Roger protested, pointing at Daryn and then at Ranma. "Word travels quickly, you're marrying Alys Karstark, and you apparently brought back the Stormborn as your bride? Or at least that's the rumor I've heard. That's a tale and a half I'd wager."

"Wait for it." Ranma said with a chuckle. "I have no doubt that Domeric is putting it in verse, I'm surprised he hasn't already finished it frankly, but until then, I would rather tell the tale just once more if I can get away with it. And, as Lord Stark, I can, so there."

"So the former Bolton is back," Roger said, his eyes glittering coldly for a moment at the remembrance of what happened there. He didn't have a problem with Domeric per se, but any mention of the house that he had once been a part of was enough to get Roger's goat up. Given what had happened to his older sister Bethany, the wife of Roose that Ramsay Snow might have poisoned, that was understandable.

Ranma led them off towards the exercise area, whispering. "Now that you're here, Jon and I have an idea..."

They stopped and watched as Arya put several men through their paces. All of them were former armsmen wearing Hornwood colors, and were now part of the light infantry, swordsman in the main, despite all of them wearing decent light chain mail. They also had been trained for weeks now, and it showed but not one of them or even all of them combined matched Arya. She was devilishly quick, her strikes coming from every direction, and she was always moving, never still, constantly turning the tables on them when they thought she was cornered.

To one side the wolfsworn after hearing the two Stark's idea, nodded to one another, then left the area for time.

Later that evening after having spent the rest of the day with his younger siblings, Ranma asked Arya to join him late that night in the godswood. Arya wondered what that was about, but decided to go with it. It wasn't the first time she had slipped out of an evening after all, and the godswood was always comforting. You could truly feel the age of the place, and some kind of power as well. Her mother and the other followers of the Seven didn't seem to like it, but it was very comforting to Arya. Something she equated to the fact that her family had held land here for as long as the woods had been there.

Stalking though the woods toward the heart tree Arya and Nymeria both stopped suddenly , staring as they noticed a small circle of figures waiting for her illuminated by the moonlight above them. One voice boomed out, the comforting voice of Ranma, though the tone was more formal than he normally sounded. "Who comes before us?"

Arya's eyes narrowed, but she strode forward confidently. "I'm Arya Stark." "I've been called here for some reason I don't know." She said staring around at them all. Arya wasn't one to stand on ceremony, and this looked like some weird ceremony that her brothers had thought up.

There were chuckles, and the people stepped forward out of the trees and further into the light of the moon above. Arya nodded, she had guessed right,it looked like all of the wolfsworn in Winterfell were here, along with Ghost and Fenris standing next to their masters. Daenerys too was there, though she was standing to one side, with only one of her draklings, Rhaegon Arya thought, he was a little bulkier than the other one, at her side. She was obviously there as a witness rather than a part of what was going on.

Ranma grinned raising a thumbs up in Arya's direction before going on, his voice now somewhere between formal and jovial. "Arya Stark, you are known as a warrior, are you loyal?"

"I am loyal to my family and to my friends." Arya said looking around again but answering readily enough. If this was what she was thinking it was, she wasn't about to make waves just yet.

Ranma nodded. The wolfsworn hadn't been a name he and his friends had given themselves, but once it had been thought up by the smallfolk they ran with it, and had created this whole ceremony to induct new members as they had done with Hathan, Edd and Roger before this. Arya was responding pretty much the same way they had, she seemed to both see the humor of the situation and the seriousness which was good. "Are you blooded in battle?"

"I am." Arya replied, her head coming up proudly.

"Then Arya Stark, we find you worthy of becoming wolfsworn, will you take the oath?" Ranma pulled out Fang, letting it rest for a moment by his side.

Arya's eyes narrowed again one eyebrow going up but after a moment she nodded hesitantly. She knew Ranma took oaths seriously, and so did she for the most part, but this was coming at her out of the woods. Still, she trusted Ranma not to have come up with anything she would find disagreeable.

At Ranma's gesture Arya sank to her knees, but her eyes remained on him, which Ranma again nodded to. The flat of Fang touched each of her shoulders and he began. The oaths were pretty much like those knights were supposed to do, hitting upon integrity and loyalty, both to the other wolfsworn to her house and to the common man. They also demanded she hold herself to a way of acting, like the code of chivalry knights were supposed to keep to, but much more realistic, and with a greater emphasis on how she was to treat the smallfolk than most knightly oaths.

Despite this they were quick, with Arya answering each with a simple "I will."

After the oaths were over Ranma nodded. "Then rise Arya Stark, wolfsworn."

She grinned, taking her Fang back from him, and moved to stand beside Nymeria where it crouched in the circle of wolfsworn near Daenerys. She looked around at them all, then took the jug that Smalljon passed down to her, sipping and gasping as the strength of the ale inside of it. The big man laughed, but thumped her on the back with a surprisingly gentle hand, before indicating she should pass it on. Arya growled then took another defiant sip before passing it on.

"Now." said Ranma, sitting down and gesturing everyone else to sit, while Daenerys sat next to him, leaning against his side lightly as he in turn leaned against the front of the heart tree. "Before you get too drunk, tell me what you've been up to little sister, and we'll tell you about our adventures down south."

The next several hours passed thus, with the jug of what another world would call scumble being passed from one wolfsworn to another, though after the first round Smalljon gave Arya some from a specially watered down jog, something that she didn't notice by that point.

While Daenerys was still an outsider here, she was most certainly a welcome one, and after the others had told her own tales of what had been going on since the last time they had gotten together like this she regaled them all with the tale of her escape from her brother. All in all, it was the most fun Arya had had since Ranma had left Winterfell.

By the end of that time, most of them were extremely tipsy, and Arya was quite a bit closer to drunk than sober. At that point they all broke up, heading back to the keep and their rooms with Arya being helped along by Ranma, with Daenerys behind him leaning on Jon. Still, Arya had enough presence of mind to stop Ranma from leaving her when she flopped onto her bed. "When you go south, I'm going with you." She said, her voice sounding almost sober.

"I know." Ranma said sighing. "I knew that ever since Jon agreed with me you should be inducted into the wolfsworn. Just don't tell mother about all this okay? We'll think of something, but that's one fight I really don't want to have to battle okay?"

"M'kay." Arya nodded, then flopped onto her side in her bed not even bothering to pull up the covers, asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

OOOOOOO

Elsewhere things were not as peaceful. Not even the ocean itself was proof against the chaos that was gripping Westeros. On the Sunset Sea, ships of black hull and varicolored sails, long sleek shapes like sharks on top of the water, sailed on in groups, some as small as five, others as large as two hundred. On many of them the flag of the Kraken could be seen flapping in the breeze.

Much like many lords suspected, the Ironborn had taken the weakening of the Iron Throne as a sign. They had long chafed under the rule of the Iron Throne even before their rebellion during Robert's reign, and the North having a hostage to compel their good conduct could not keep the Greyjoys from trying desperately to turn back time to when they were true masters of the ocean. Be it pride, be it hubris, be it a desire for blood and mayhem or the needs of their God to be sated by the blood of others, the Ironborn were going to war.

OOOOOOO

The next morning, Jon was asked to join his father in his study. Wincing occasionally as he passed a arrow slit letting in the sun, he made his way there after downing some of maester Luwin's special hangover remedy. There he found not only his father but Ranma, Catelyn, and Daenerys.

He exchanged weak nods with the other two young people, amused that Daenerys was showing more pain then Ranma, despite having taken only from the jug specially prepared for Arya after the first round rather than the real rotgut that the rest of them had drunk last night. Still, being awake this early after what was obviously her first time getting drunk was impressive.

Daenerys nodded in turn, trying to keep her head from falling off with the movement while internally vowing that last night was the last time she was going to be getting drunk. Through her pain however she still smiled at Jon. He was a remarkable young man much like his brother, both intelligent and loyal. He also had a surprisingly good way with her draklings.

Actually both Jon and his younger brother Bran had a way with her youngster seemed to get along with any animal, something which Ranma said spoke of Bran's more powerful warging potential. He had however taken Bran aside the day after they arrived and warned him not to try to connect to the draklings without Daenerys's permission. That was just rude after all. Bran had seemed saddened by that, but had agreed to it. Bran seemed in awe of her and so too bashful to approach Daenerys to ask permission, but she knew that if they spent overlong here in Winterfell he would. What she would say to that however, she didn't know just yet.

Jon on the other hand showed no sign of being able to connect mind to mind with the draklings, but the draklings treated him much more kindly than they had treated Sansa or Myrcella in the beginning, showing none of the aggression that they showed anyone else. Save Ranma the un-biteable or course.

Still Daenerys wondered why she was here. She had been told it was a family matter, but surely that meant she shouldn't be here shouldn't it?

Sitting at his desk with his leg up on a cushion, Eddard looked at Jon's gravely, none of his amusement at the looks of pain that all three young people had on their faces showing on his, while Catelyn was mildly disapproving, or greatly disapproving he wasn't certain right now nor did he care at present. "Jon, I have something to tell you. Something about your parentage, something I have had to keep secret before this for the safety of us all."

Jon's eyes widened. Am I finally going to learn who my mother was? That had been the one thing that always bothered him; that he didn't know who his mother had been, had it really been just a sudden love affair between her and Lord Stark, was there something deeper there? Or was he from smallfolk stock, something that happened after a battle like Theon had once said, before being soundly thrashed by Jon for it. That was the fight that had destroyed several dozen bottles of wine in the wine cellar, and caused Eddard to raise his hand to the boys for the first and only time.

Now Jon looked at them all, then back to Eddard. He gulped, his throat having suddenly gone dry, then nodded convulsively. "I-I've always wondered about my parentage, but, but can I ask, why now?"

Eddard's eyes flicked to Daenerys then back to Jon. "Because the reason it had to be kept secret no longer matters. Robert is dead, he can no longer take vengeance upon you or my family for hiding you. And because you deserve to know, you both do."

Daenerys cocked her head, wondering what that meant, unable quite yet to see where this was going while Jon and Catelyn both simply waited and Ranma smirked internally. This would answer the one, final question he had about his brother's birth, and he was looking forward to it.

"The tale begins near the end of the rebellion, when myself and my companions finally found my sister where Lyanna had been placed in the Tower of Joy down in Dorne by Prince Rhaegar. Everyone in the West knows how he absconded with her, despite already being married, but, and I swear this to be the truth on my name, we were all wrong. Lyanna did not, she was not taken against her will, she had fallen in love with Rhaegar, and he with her despite already being married."

While Jon and Ranma's eyes widened at that sudden shock, Eddard shook his head, once more thinking of the folly of love and its power to change the world. If Lyanna had been open about their infatuation, could that have changed anything? No, the Prince was still married, and Dorne would never have forgiven any attempt at annulment, especially one without reason.

Daenerys now was looking between him and Jon in wild surmise, while Jon still wasn't there. Eddard smiled then went on with his tale. "There were seven of us, seven of the best warriors of the North, against three Kingsguard, and only myself and Lord Reed made it back alive. Only Lord Reed and I know what was really going on, that Lyanna had not only had run away with the Prince, but had already slept with him. By the time we found her, she had gone into labor."

His eyes turned distant remembering that moment, when they stormed up the steps of the Tower of Joy to find three healers with his sister all of them trying desperately to save her life while a babe was cradled in a wet nurses arm, crying out lustily. At the time, all Eddard took in was the blood on the sheets, the paleness of his sister's normally lively face, her eyes opening and closing rapidly, the sounds of the panicking healers. Those healers had all died by his blade unwilling to swear to keep the secret as the wet nurse had.

"That babe was you." Ned said, coming back to the here and now to stare at Jon. "My sister made me promise, on the blood that we shared and on my love for her that I would watch over you, that I would treat you as family. Yet I could not declare you such. Robert was gripped in a blood madness, shown by what happened in King's Landing to Elia Martell's children, and his standing orders for Viserys and Daenerys. He wanted to wipe out every bit of Targaryen blood from the world, and my friendship with him would not have saved us."

Jon trembled. "I-I have Targaryen blood in me." He stuttered looking at Daenerys. "I, that's unbelievable, I have nothing I mean nothing in my features say I am…"

Daenerys nodded looking at him thoughtfully but she shook her head. "That's true, but there is the way you have with the draklings to consider. They didn't let Myrcella or Sansa near them for a time unless I was close by controlling them, it was only after the two girls helped me with their first molting that they accepted the two of them. And they still don't let Alayaya or any of the others near them, and it certainly isn't because of sensing that you are like Ranma, since they attacked him at first too." she said, obliquely referencing the warging ability, not looking at Catelyn.

Catelyn was a devout believer in the Seven, and the Seven held that magics like mind to mind linking were signs of witchcraft and therefore evil. Ranma and his siblings had long since decided to hide their ability to warg from her, and in fact Ranma had made Bran and the others promise to not mention it even to Sansa, who was the only one among the kids who have decided to follow the Seven, though Rickon hadn't yet made that choice.

"But they let you touch them, they even seemed to like it when you did so, which is incredible, since even Bran wasn't allowed to do that the first time he approached them, and you know how good he is with animals. It could be a sign of what Lord Stark is saying." She smiled suddenly, reaching forward to grasp his shoulders with both of her hands looking into his eyes. "For my part I'm happy to have found a family member who I can honestly say I am honored to know. I'm happy to meet you, nephew."

Jon stared at her, then began to smile as well reaching out and pulling her into a brief but heartfelt hug before turning to the others. "What does this mean for me?"

"It means that you can be known as a Stark, brother." Ranma said smiling at him. "I mean to legitimize you as one of the first orders of business in the conclave. I doubt that many of the Lord's will object." he added dryly. That actually won a round of chuckles, since Jon Twinblade was almost as well respected in the North as his father or Ranma.

"Alternatively," Ranma went on. "We could name you Targaryen. At the moment that really can't make our position any worse in the eyes of the Baratheon siblings or the Lannisters, they apparently are already sending out messages saying we are closet Targaryen supporters anyway." The official line of what happened in Kings Landing had spread to the Riverlands, sent on by messenger to Moat Cailin and then by raven up to Winterfell.

Daenerys looked hopeful at that, not because she would indeed like another Targaryen named member around her, but also because she knew how her brother would react when news reached him. Hah, if only I were there to see it!

But after a moment Jon shook his head. "I'm a Stark, I've been that for years regardless of the name, regardless of who my father really was." he said looking apologetically at Daenerys before turning to face Catelyn and Eddard. "you are my father sir, and you lady, despite never quite treating me as well as one of your sons, you were the closest thing I had to mother. I will be a Stark, whatever my real heritage."

Ranma clapped him hard on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. Daenerys shrugged philosophically, while Catelyn and Eddard looked on proudly.

Jon-now-Stark joined his brother later that morning with the rest of the Wolfsworn including Arya and Daenerys as they raced out of the woods. Ostensibly they were heading out to watch Daenerys train her draklings, while the rest of the wolfsworn got to know one another again after so long, but that had mostly been accomplished last night. Still, none of the lords cared, their egos having been sufficiently stroked the day before, and they were eagerly awaiting the last of their fellows. Besides, Eddard remained, and there were old tales to speak of and drinking to do.

Soon they came upon an open clearing, ironically the same one Arya had been training with Dacey in when Nymeria heard the incoming raiders.

Ranma held up Ice, the greatsword easily wielded one-handed as he moved through a series of katas. The others were all watching him, then gasped in sudden shock as the blade began to glow light blue tinged with gold, not sickly blue like the eyes of the undead, but bright flickering blue gold fire.

"This was why my weapons were deadly to the Shadow Warriors" he said, coming to a halt and bringing up the blade holding it in front of him. "A Valyrian blade like Ice is apparently deadly to them on its own, but this, was just as deadly. I mean for all of you to learn how to do this."

"What is it?" Roger said looking at the blade in awe. Daryn and the others were staring in awe as well. "And how did you learn to do whatever it is?"

"You've all been training with me since we were young, and I know some of you have wondered where my own skill comes from. I'll tell you all when Edd, Hathan and Dacey arrived, it's not so it interesting I want to tell the same tale twice. But for now, let's concentrate on this."

While Daenerys moved her draklings through their flying paces, getting better and better at controlling them and sending them further away from her, though they still couldn't go very far in a single flight, Ranma trained the others in the rudiments of ki manipulation. This began with meditations, something that had them all grumbling. But he had introduced them to it before, telling them about how they could sink into a combat mentality, which would help them their reaction times and awareness during combat. After that he walked them through the feeling of pushing their life energy into the blade.

Leaving the rest to practice, Ranma took Arya off to a side of the clearing into the woods to where he had set up a series of ropes tied between trees. They were at various heights, ranging fromone a foot off the ground, to another well into the branches of the largest oaks that made up the course.

"What is all this?" Arya asked, looking around.

"Jon and I have talked about it, and we think given the fact you need to base your style off speed and movement, you should learn something of the same style I do. We call it Anything Goes, and it was originally an aerial style, meaning the user tries to stay and fight in midair. It's tough, but it gives you a lot of advantages in a fight, not just mobility, but shock value, and the fact it's very hard for other people to adapt to."

Arya nodded, having occasionally seen Ranma in what she had called 'jumping practice' jumping from one limb of a tree to another, while kicking or striking out. He often practiced that in the godswood. Then she frowned. "Wait, Jon doesn't use this style, does he? I mean, I never see him jumping like you do or anything like that."

"Hah!" Ranma laughed. "Well, heh, Jon started to learn a weapons style that used both hands before we could really get into midair practice. And once we did, we found that he's afraid of heights."

He was forced to dodge as a large cob of wood passed through the place his head had previously inhabited. "I am not!" Jon's voice shouted from the other side of the clearing, to the background of several people laughing. "I simply have a preference for keeping both my feet on the ground if I can help it, and a respect for gravity that you, you crazy shit, don't."

"Whatever!" Ranma yelled back, before turning to Arya. "Anyway, let's see if you have any aptitude for it."

Arya nodded eagerly, then followed his instructions getting up onto the first rope. Thanks to her previous training she had excellent body control and balance, so she was able to stay up on the rope, and even flip herself up to the second one. Nor did she have any fear of heights. Arya had often gone with Bran on his climbing expeditions, until her mother had threatened to cancel the agreement between her and Ranma.

When he began to throw things at her while shouting "DODGE!" however, Arya began to have a much harder time of it. She fell several times, but other than cursing Ranma out every time the small leather wrapped sticks hit her she didn't complain.

After a few hours to Ranma's surprise Jon was able to show a flicker of energy before that first day ended. But by the end of the week, Roger had begun to exhibit similar flickers. The Daryn and Smalljon were slower, only showing flickers on the last day, before Greatjon and Lord Karstark arrived with Dacey and Hathan in tow.

Both men arrived with a force of one thousand five hundred, coming down the river from Long Lake. Umber brought a thousand mixed weapons infantry, who Ranma thought of as light infantry, two hundred cavalry and three hundred archers. Karstark brought seven hundred archers, five hundred infantry, and three hundred cavalry. Combined it was a powerful addition to the army already in place here and in Cerwyn, but right now Ranma was happier to see his friends than the men.

Dacey looked weak where she sat in her saddle, and Hathan and Edd were hovering around her protectively, as if they were worried she might fall off her horse. The fact she wore no armor but a shift over which she had a sling keeping her arm still and what looked like heavy bandages under her armpit, also worried Ranma. But her eyes were clear, and she was watching everything around her alertly. A single glare his way also made it clear the she-bear was nearly fed up with the cozening she had already gotten, and would thump him if he tried to add to it. So instead Ranma turned back to welcome his fellow lords.

Lord Karstark was at the head of his family, his heir beside him on one side and his daughter on his other, though not his wife, she traveled poorly. She became sick even when in a cart moving slowly over flat ground let alone by horseback or by riverboat.

"Cousin." Ranma said reaching up to clasp forearms with Rickard, then, as she gracefully descended from her horse pulled Alys into a one armed brotherly hug. "Good to see both of you, looking forward to getting married Alys?"

"I am well cousin." Alys said reaching up to kiss Ranma lightly on the cheek. "And yes, I am. Daryn is a good man, and I have been dreaming of this day for some time now."

Her father looked at the two of them as he slipped off his own horse, sighing sadly at hopes he'd had in the past well and truly gone now. Still, the marriage between Alys and Daryn Hornwood was good, and had been long in the making. He smiled as the rest of the Starks came toward him led by Jon, always happy at how the Starks treated him and his like family rather than simple lords or vassals. "You've been busy I believe, Jon." he said then smirked as he caught Daryn staring at his daughter a blush on his face quickly matched by one on hers.

"I think we should get these two married off quickly yes, to make sure something untoward doesn't happen?" He said aloud in a whispering sort of voice yet one which carried, causing both youngsters to blush even redder.

Ranma laughed and the Karstarks moved off, with Catelyn showing them into the keep while Ranma and Jon turned to welcome their friends and Greatjon. As soon as he was within the castle's main square, Greatjon's voice boomed out. "Smalljon! What are you doing down here, you're supposed to be on the wall with your uncle, I'll tan your hide for disobeying me!"

"Peace Greatjon" said Ranma, leaning up to clasp forearms with the man before backing away to let him slide out of the saddle. "I'd decided I wanted all of my friends around me, and he came down with the Imp to make sure he didn't try to run away before we arrived in White Harbor."

"And is he here?" Greatjon growled, looking around. "The Imp I mean. What's all this I hear about the bloody lions showing their true colors again? And you bringing back the Stormborn girl?"

"No, Tyrion and I came to an agreement, he's back on the Wall, and happy with it I think. As for the rest, you and everyone else are waiting for that, but I wanted to tell all of you all at once, save my throat some work that way." Ranma said laughing and slapping the older man on the shoulder. "The war counsel is tomorrow afternoon, and we'll have quite a tale to tell you. Before that though, I think we've got a wedding to go to tonight."

Greatjon looked over to where Daryn was still staring after Alys who had just gone inside the keep, then began to laugh.

After that, Ranma was finally able to greet his friends. "Dacey, Hathan, Edd, damn good to see you three, the gangs all here now!" Ranma grinned, exchanging a hug with Edd and a handclasp with Dacey and Hathan. "So, what exactly happened to you Dacey?" He went on, his voice lower as he began to direct them toward the keep, Greatjon behind him talking to Jon about a schedule for his men' rearmament. "Or should I ask, what did you find?"

Dacey nodded her head slightly down at her wound, keeping her voice low. "That was done by a sword that was made of ice and we found a small foot bridge leading across the Gorge made of the same thing. Burned it, and if that was all they could do after a year from the time we were ambushed, we might have cut off the White Walkers from being able to send troops around the Wall for now."

Something about that statement bothered Ranma, but he nodded. There they were interrupted by Maeve Mormont coming out of the keep, roaring for her heir to show herself, and tell her how she got herself hurt.

After Dacey escaped her mother, she met up with the others in Ranma's room where she relayed the entire story to them, Arya, Domeric and Daenerys. After she finished, he was so busy talking about the implications with Jon and the others he didn't notice Dacey and Daenerys sizing one another up.

After a moment, the older Dacey, shrugged philosophically, and nodded her head over to Arya, who was listening to the truth of the northern threat avidly. "So runt, how did you bribe your brother into letting you join this troop?"

Later that day while Ranma was once more spending time with Rickon and Bran, Dacey and Daenerys talked, and Dacey realized quickly why Ranma was so besotted with the girl, while also setting her straight on their own relationship and how it had ended. Daenerys in turn told Dacey how she felt about Ranma, how they had met and how she had come to care for him. By the end of that discussion the two had made their peace with one another, with Ranma none the wiser.

A much more important meeting occurred while the godswood was being prepared for the wedding. There Ranma told his friends (minus Theon, who wasn't there), his sister and Daenerys about his past life. Not everything, just the bare amount, that he was a warrior from another place, who had developed his skills in combat against others with similar skills, and how he had been forced to run away to retain his personal honor, then found himself as a baby once more here. He also included the fact the old gods had sent him visions.

This was the clincher for his friends. All of them had been prepared to believe him before that, but it was well known that sometimes the old gods spoke in such manners to their believers in times of great upheaval. Daenerys was more skeptical about that, but did believe that Ranma had been resurrected in some manner, and was here now to face the White Walkers by something.

After the others had confirmed that this new information changed nothing between them (after all, they had suspected Ranma was gods-touched before this) and promised to keep this information a secret, Daenerys spoke up. "I agree this needs to be kept a secret Ranma, but I wonder if you've thought this through."

When everyone looked at her she shrugged. "I do not believe in the old gods, and my faith in the Seven isn't particularly strong either, but if the old gods do exist as indicated by them giving you visions and bringing you here, then it stands to reason other gods might as well."

Ranma nodded somberly. "I've thought of that, and I think we've already seen an example of something like it, those Shadow Warriors. Though what god they're connected to I don't know. I hope that the Seven remains aloof at least, I can't see it, er them, er… whatever…" Hathan, the only real follower of the Seven among them, snorted in amusement while Ranma went on. "Have any real problems with us, unless they don't like the whole warging thing, which is another thing we'll all need to keep secret. But other than that, well I'm just hoping the White Walkers don't have a real deity to call on."

"I don't think they do, if anything from the old tales they seem to simply worship, well, themselves in a way. Not their ancestors, but their own abilities, as well as simply winter in all its horrible power." Jon shrugged. "At least that's my impression after researching them here in the library."

Hathan was frowning thoughtfully. "So really this whole war in the south is more of a side show for you and for us, if the old gods brought you here to face the White Walkers." He would have preferred that Ranma had been sent by the Seven, but given his abilities it actually made more sense for him to have been sent by the old gods.

"Pretty much." Ranma shrugged. "We march south to see justice done, to avenge our dead, but also, and this is even more important in a way, to unite enough of Westeros under us so we can bring even more aid to the Wall if needed. And I'm very afraid it will be. I could wish we didn't have to but wishes in one hand, shit in the other, see which one fills up first."

At that they all laughed and the moment passed. None of them really cared one way or another what might be out there, whatever it was they would face it together.

OOOOOOO

Daryn and Alys were married that evening in the old style as practiced in the North. Daenerys and Ranma were both there as witnesses, and Daenerys afterwards pulled him to the side. "If you think for one moment I'm going to have a marriage like that you have another think coming Ranma Stark!" she said sternly poking him in the sternum with every word.

"Never dreamed of it." Ranma said shaking his head. "I think it's barbaric myself, and I live here remember. Don't worry though, I've got a plan." Ranma began to whisper the plan for the real marriage, and she nodded. It seemed like it would work, especially given the power of the scumble she had tired the night Arya was inducted into the wolfsworn.

The next afternoon however, both of them had other, more serious things to concentrate on. While the two newlyweds recovered, the Lords and all their heirs gathered in the keep's main hall. Daenerys, Myrcella, Brynden, Sansa, Ranma, his father and Jon were waiting for them, with Fenris and Ghost laying on the floor nearby. Myrcella acted like a maid, going around and giving them each steins, while Ranma went around filling them from his own hand.

After they all had quaffed a single gulp, symbolic for this meeting, they sat down at the long table. Ranma nodded to his father who sat beside him in the advisers position rather than Lords, something Greatjon noticed, and sighed at. But he had already heard about his Lords crippling injury, and understood. More, he knew Ranma and like all the others who did knew he would be a magnificent Lord Paramount for the North.

"So!" he bellowed, getting the ball rolling quickly as was his normal bombastic nature. "Since I've arrived here I've heard rumors gossip and suppositions. I'd like to hear some facts. You called us and our men up, told us to gather here, so what's going on down south and what do you plan to do about it?"

Ranma nodded at his father who began the tale from the beginning. First was their worry that something was going on, though they couldn't at first pin anything on the Lannisters, then Ned's concern about what had happened to Jon Aryn and looking into the bastards of the King and the lineage of previous marriages between House Lannister and House Baratheon. Many a Lord turned to look at Myrcella where she stood behind Daenerys, who was sitting on Ranma's other side at the head of the table. She met their eyes levelly, while Ranma stated their current position, that she and they would remain acting as if she was a princess of the house of Baratheon until they received word from the Citadel that the female offspring of those marriages also favored the Baratheons.

There was some murmuring about that, but that ended when Daenerys spoke up saying that Myrcella would act as her handmaiden, and after Ranma said that she was under her his personal protection. In the south there would have been a lot of mutters about that, seeing the young girl as a potential tool against her mother and the rest of her family, but here in the North they didn't think like that for the most part. Not after Ranma said that she was under his protection.

From there on Ranma's father Brynden and Myrcella continued, filling them in on the war of influence that occurred in King's Landing, then the death of Tommen, where Myrcella stated unequivocally that it had been Joffrey who engineered it, admitting it to her later.

After the roars of disbelief and fury that the idea of a kinslayer sitting on the Iron Throne evoked faded, the conversation continued with Brynden and Eddard describing the battle that had occurred in the city. Eddard surprised many there with how passionate he was in praising his guards. He went into detail about how they had sold their lives more dearly than anyone could have ever expected, how they had come so close to victory and if not for Renly and Loras' cowardice they might've won.

This caused some more murmuring, which ended when Sansa spoke up from where she stood behind her father, describing the perfidy of Joffrey. Her lips trembling as she remembered, describing how he had her whipped, how he put men to death simply to grind into her face her position as his prisoner.

That was the final straw for Rickard, who had come to care for Sansa and the Starks as his family as they had his, and the others. They all rose to their feet, slamming their hands down on the table and shouting out about treachery, cowardice, and 'this must be answered' and 'to war!'. After a few moments, Ranma's voice overrode them "There is more my lords that you need to hear!"

Daenerys spoke into the quite then, her voice passionate, yet controlled. "You have heard of the Lannisters, and you have heard of Renly, who, we have since learned has declared himself King. You have not yet heard of Stannis, and the vileness that he seems to have welcomed into Westeros. Hear this tale now, then think hard about what fighting it may mean. This is not a war like any other my Lords, this might be a war against pure evil."

She went on from there, describing both the first attempt to take her alive, then the second with the Shadow Warriors. There were exclamations of shock and horror at them, but no disbelief. While magic was not very well known here in the North, they found it easier to believe since it had a place in the Old God religion, and none would doubt her words, with Sansa, Ranma and Eddard all there to back it up. The only one who is skeptical was Lord Ryswell, but that was simply his nature.

"You say we have a choice whether to face this my lady," said Lord Hornwood shaking his head, his normal control in abeyance now. "The choice is simple, face it now down south, or face it in the North when they come for us. None of the three claimants to the Iron Throne are of the type to let us alone up here, we'd have to bend the knee to one or the other if we don't march. These Shadow Warriors sound like the foulest magic wherever they come from, so I'll have no truck with Stannis. I have no patience for cowards, and thus have no respect for Renly. And I would sooner die than bend my need to a Lannister bastard!"

There were shouts and thumps on the table of approval at that, and it came as no surprise to Ranma that Greatjon spoke up next, his voice allowing him to quite the hubbub easily. "Aye, even before this Renly Baratheon was nothing to me, a pulling whelp who's never known battle, nor Stannis neither, a cold fish and not the man he was if he has truck with such as these shadow things. Why should they rule over me and mine from some soft seat in Highgarden or the Stormlands? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men?"

He stood up, looking around at them all, his great, bearded face fierce and challenging as the northern wind. "What has the south done for us since the dragons passed? It was the dragons we married, the Targaryens who helped create the Night's Watch, who gave them the Gift, who allowed us to keep to our ways. And look we have dragons!" Greatjon bellowed pointing at Daenerys. "I've seen them, we've all seen her little ones, have seen them in flight, and we know what they can do. I say that it is time for new blood on that throne coupled with the old, let us raise our own king and queen of the North!"

The other Lords took it up bellowing agreement, but it still shocked Ranma when he saw Lord Ryswell stand up, banging his stein on the table for silence. "You speak for me as well Halys, Greatjon, and I'll say it again. What did Baratheon or Lannister or even the Reach do for us here in the North, nothing! At least the Targaryens helped us on the Wall, at least they gave us subsidies for food when times were harsh! I agree let us raise our own king and queen, king in the North!"

There was a roar of approval, which sent Fenris down to his haunches putting his paws over his years whining slightly along with Ghost. Despite their irritation at the noise, they both understood this was some sort of pre-battle howl and were happy with that. They had their own bit of vengeance to look into. Lady's death had left a hole in the pack, and it would be answered in blood.

"No matter what else happens, we will not just be king and queen of the North." Ranma said. That silenced them, and Ranma read out the message from his grandfather. There was some mumblings about that, though every Lord there understood that Hoster was doing all he could to keep his lands from falling to Lannister control. Ranma went on. "Even without this I would not be willing to simply stand back and let my grandfather and my family down there fall without a fight. We will march to their defense, as much as possible, and we will deal with this these Shadow Warriors of Stannis's, and with the Lannister treachery! But we cannot leave the North undefended."

There were some looks exchanged at that wondering what other threat there could be. The wall was held so securely now that there was no doubt that the wildlings couldn't break through. Not unless they found a way around it, and there was no sign they could do that not with the forces enough to matter.

Daenerys spoke up, shaking her head sternly. "The Ironborn my Lords. Surely you do not think that they will remain peaceable in this time of chaos? They will no doubt go back to their old ways, and the North cannot seem an easy target."

"That is why my lady mother specified that you should leave your men behind Lord Glover, your town will be a primary target for them, a forward base they could use to invade further inland. In fact, I hereby order you to build up your defenses as much is possible in that eventuality. If you cannot, if your town in your opinion is not defensible, then I give you leave to retreat further into our territories. Let the Wolfswood be our defense on that side. And you my Lord," he turned to have Lord Ryswell. "I would like you to only give me a fourth of your forces. You will need to be available to defend the Stony Shore if need be, and Lord Tallhart, you as well."

Tallhart smiled, enjoying being called lord rather than 'master', as his house's rank would allow. "I've gathered about five hundred men here my lord, three hundred archers, two hundred infantry. I have about another five hundred light cavalry, which I'll put at lord Ryswell's disposal for defense of the shore under my brother."

Normally such a task would be given to his son, but Benfred Tallhart was known as an arrogant, standoffish and rather idiotic young man. Ranma and he had met once, and it had been all Ranma could do to not smash his teeth in. He was an utter idiot when it came to anything combat related, or much of anything really. It was why Tallhart's brother was his heir rather than his firstborn son.

After a moment Ryswell nodded. "I've already gathered two thousand men here, heavy and light cavalry, that leaves me another thousand light cavalry and five hundred heavy for defense of the shore. But are you certain you won't need more men down south? The armies of the Westerlands and the Reach are massive."

Ranma and Dacey exchanged a look, and after a moment, Dacey nodded her head and Ranma stood up. "There is more you all need to know, more than you have been told up to this point about another threat. For that I and my friends apologize, but we didn't think you would believe us, not until we had more proof. But we have some more proof now, and more witnesses, thanks to Dacey Mormont and her mission to the Gorge."

From there, Ranma went into the ambush he and his friends had walked into on their way to the Wall. Hearing the full story many a parent harrumphed, having figured out there was something more going on there than they had been told, though none of them had supposed the full horror. While one or two were angry they hadn't been told earlier, Maeve and Lord Glover being the most angry of these, the others understood why it had been kept a secret. Certainly the former king or his court would never have believed such a tale.

After Dacey filled them in on her own mission and what it had revealed, Greatjon in particular was much more positive about it all, pointing at the fact that all of their Houses had already sent forces to the Wall. Indeed it was still being reinforced, a force from Locke, about six hundred armsmen, had been sent up there less than a week before Ranma and the others arrived in White Harbor. "Hah, if those undead bastards think they can get through the Wall so easily with just the Night's Watch to contend with, let them face the might of the North united and ready for them!"

There were some bellows of approval at that, though a few of the lords were suddenly looking a little more leery about going south.

Sensing an opportunity Medger hummed thoughtfully, looking from one lord to another. "I probably don't need to say this, but I'm getting a little old for this warfare game." There was some laughter at that, though there was a bit of truth to it. Cerwyn could still fight and well, but he was an older man, slightly older than Eddard.

The more important fact though was that his daughter Jonelle and son-in-law were both not warriors, not really. Oh his son-in-law, Jerolt Flint of Flint's Finger ,the second son of that family, was a good warrior but had no head for leading. And Medger had already sent his second, Kyle Conton, to the Wall and had no one else he trusted to look after his land and lead his people in battle.

"Still, it needs to be said." Medger went on, waving his hand at the others laughter. "But I trust Ranma Stark to lead my men, even without me looking over his shoulder to make sure, so I'll hereby relinquish formal command of my men going south to him. Now, let's put some numbers on the table here. I don't think any of us should call up more men for the southern excursion, let's look at what we've already brought together. By my count, and it's accurate since my house is putting up food and board for half of it, we have four thousand pike, some five thousand light infantry, around two thousand light cavalry, and a little over a thousand heavy, a little over two thousand archers, and seven hundred scouts and skirmishers form the Mountain clans."

"House Manderly has already begun to send a force down to Moat Cailin of six hundred heavy cavalry and infantry, and they will be preparing a supply point for us on the other side of the Neck." Ranma smiled. "I told you I wasn't going to let my grandfather and his house fight alone. Even if you had not all joined with me so vehemently, I was not going to let that happen. I would've gone alone if I had to."

There was some mutterings of approval and disapproval for that, but they were quieted as Medger spoke up. "So even with the forces on the Wall that leaves all of us with enough forces, particularly cavalry, to guard our own lands and field a decent defensive force or reinforce the Wall further. Excellent."

Daryn frowned, knowing the 'us' had been sent his way in particular. "I… son, despite having to tear him away from his wife, will be sent in my stead. Even if they will wait for full winter to come against us, I can't in good conscience go off to war and let my wife hold my land alone with a threat like the White Walkers looming." Like Medger, he didn't really have anyone who he could trust with leading his men in war other than his son, and despite having to leave Alys, Hornwood doubted he could keep Daryn away from this.

Lord Ryswell snorted, seeing no need to save face, since he was the oldest man here, and well past his warrior years. "My son Roger will lead my troops of course."

"As will Dacey mine, after we've a talk about keeping secrets girl." Maeve growled. Dacey had the good grace to look mildly abashed, but unrepentant."I'll not let any Ironborn attack my island without me there to personally put my sword up their ass!"

"Hah, well Rickard and I have a son and an uncle respectively we can leave to look after things. There's no way I'm missing out on this!"Greatjon laughed."Though if the war drags until winter starts, I'll have to rethink things."

"In that line Lord Umber, we have a proposal to talk to you about." Daenerys said. "Specifically your control of the Last River and coal supplies."

Greatjon looked at her, then nodded as she went on, agreeing to house the workers that would start that task, taken from Stark and White Harbor for now. Later prisoners might be used for that sort of transportation construction, but not right now.

"What of House Locke?"asked Rickard."Or the Flints and Dustins? And besides your pikes, won't you be sending any cavalry? Cavalry is the measure of a lord's worth."

Ranma laughed, and at a mental command Fenris stood up, leaning his massive head over his master's head where he sat. His lips rippled backwards, allowing all his teeth to show, while beside him Ghost did the same, leaning between Merry and Jon to nearly reach across the entire table to stare at Rickard."Oh, I think we've got an equivalent force here, don't you?"

Rickard withdrew his objection while the other lords laughed, then Ranma addressed his other questions. "The Flints of Flint's Finger have the same problem that you do Lord Glover, they're very vulnerable to attacks from sea. I refuse to take people from their defense if the Ironborn return to their Old Way." Ranma nearly spat the words shaking his head.

"House Locke and the Flint's of Widows Watch have already promised their services elsewhere." Daenerys took up the tale. "They and the Manderly navy will be taking and investing the Three Sisters, then building us a supply point at the lowest point of the Bite to the Neck."

That brought a round of approval from all the lords. Memories were long in the North, and the sistermen hadn't made any friends here even after the war between the Vale and the North over them had ended.

"Is that what that Greyjoy brat is doing? I noticed Theon's not here. If he were, we could still use him as a hostage against the Ironborn." Lord Glover said, though there was no acrimony in his voice. He hadn't lost any family to the Ironborn's last uprising, but he hadn't particularly warmed to Theon either.

"He's in command of the fleet taking the Sisters." Ranma confirmed, grinding his teeth a little at the older man's tone, but letting it slide for now. "Wylis Manderly will take over the conquest once the landings are secure. Besides, the idea of hostages only work when the other family is honorable or cares for their members. Can anyone here say with a straight face that you believe that the Greyjoys are honorable? Or will care about a son who has been raised here in the North most of his life?"

Eddard, who had been silent since finishing the tale of the south, looked away, not happy about that, but unable to gainsay it. The men around the table however laughed, and the question turns to logistics and other things, including pay for the man on the march. Two silver Stags a day, to be started forty days from now for most because of the subtraction of payment for their weapons and armor. More than fifty silver stags could then be exchanged at the end of the war for land up in the Gift, or possibly in the Riverlands. House Stark would pay for the foodstuffs for the army as well up until they left the neck behind, whereupon Locke and Manderly would take up the task until one of the Riverlands lords took up the task.

As the meeting finally reached its conclusion, and the various northern lords got up from the table talking excitedly about the coming campaign, Ranma, raised his voice for a moment. "Lord Cerwyn, Lord Ryswell, please stay for a moment."

Looking at one another wondering what this was about, the two men obeyed, moving over to where Ranma, his father and Daenerys were still sitting. Ranma turned to Lord Cerwyn first. "Your grandson, Cley, he is of an age to be sent to ward correct?"

"Yes." Medger nodded. "I had hoped to have him do so with Kyle. He could squire with him and then Jonelle wouldn't chew my ear off for sending her little boy away. Now though, I will need to look for other solutions. Why?"

Ranma smiled. "On the campaign, we're not going to have servants or anything of that nature, but a squire or ward can help immensely, he could fill in the same position for me and the rest of the wolfsworn as Merry is going to be filling in for Daenerys."

Actually that wasn't true, Myrcella and Alayaya were both going to be housed as Daenerys'maids but Merry was also going to be acting as part of the medical teams at need. That had been an innovation Ranma had put together that Merry had distinctly approved of. They would be adding any healers, both septons and maesters who they came across that proved trustworthy to their army.

This would later include the maester of house Locke, who Lord Manderly had convinced the elderly Lord Locke to send down to meet the army at the way point his people and House Reed were going to set up past the Neck. He was a youngish man, and Ranma hadn't met him before but he was already renowned as a healer more than any of his other duties, hence Manderly's suggestion of sending him.

Medger smiled. He also knew why Ranma was offering this, since Daenerys was standing there with a smug little smile on her face. Due to his wife dying in childbirth along with their second born, who would've been a son, he hadn't had a son of the proper age to join the wolfsworn. But with his family's position and power, he should have had a representative among Ranma's friends. He hadn't felt slighted by it, Ranma had often been to his house on this errand or other and the ties between their families were strong, but this would be a good way to continue the tradition. "Excellent, I presume you'll also be training him?"

"Of course." Ranma said nodding. In fact if Medger had brought him to Winterfell that training would already have begun.

"Good, in that case I except, I'll tell him when I get home this evening. But you get to tell to his mother about it." Medger said dryly. "I'm old, my ears are too frail to put up with that kind of punishment."

Ranma winced while the others in the room laughed. "Are you sure you don't have a castle you want me to take single handed instead?"

"Not at all, if you're going to be taking her darling boy away to war, you get to be the one to smooth talk Jonelle. Besides, she likes you, and you don't have a beard for her to pluck out. Mine would most distinctly be in danger if I was the one sacri-I mean the one to inform her of this."

Ranma winced again then nodded acquiescence. Realizing that was his cue to leave Medger stood up, stopping only when Eddard asked him to help him out of his chair, and walk with him out of the hall. Eddard knew this was on a topic he should have taken care of years ago but hadn't for friendship's sake and sadness, and had no desire now to be the one to solve it.

The others left too, knowing that what Ranma had to speak to Lord Ryswell about wasn't nearly as pleasant. Daenerys alone stayed, one hand resting lightly on Ranma's arm. When the room was cleared Ranma began. "Lord Ryswell your daughter, Lady Dustin…"

"I know what you're going to say, milord." the older man said shaking his head. "She holds a grudge like no one's business, it was always that way with her even as a child. Not being here or even sending a representative for this meeting was unconscionable, and there needs to be repercussions forward. But remember that house Dustin is in a bad way and has been for years, they lost nearly all their forces in Robert's Rebellion along with their lord, dead near the end. Barbrey took that hard, and has loathed your father for getting him killed ever since, that and her own memories keep her from moving on."

"I know, and I'm not going to raid her scant force for the army or anything of that nature. No, what House Dustin and Barrowton will be doing is equipping the army with provisions, and adding to our supply train."

Daenerys pulled out a list of their requirements, which had taken the two of them hours of working with Jon and maester Luwin to write out. Much of it had already been filled by Winterfell and House Cerwyn, and some more of it would be filled by House Locke when the army left the Neck. Blankets, arrows and food for example were taken care of for now, but they still needed more, in particular medical supplies and tents. Ingredients they would get from house Reed directly, but actual supplies, carts for the supplies, and other things they needed more of. Ranma intended to move the army quickly, but he wasn't about to let them rough it more than was necessary.

"She'll be filling these out gratis from her own resources. We won't be paying for them at all. Let that stand as payment for not obeying her Lord Paramount's commands." Ranma said sternly, taking the list from Daenerys and passing it over to the older man.

Lord Ryswell looked over the list wincing a little. It wasn't that any one item on it was expensive, but there was so much there. "She could say that since it was only your mother speaking for your father rather than him speaking for himself she didn't have any obligation to listen," he prevaricated.

"Which is so much marsh gas." Daenerys said sternly. She had been the one to come up with this idea when it became clear Barbrey Dustin would not appear, and was certain to drive the lesson home. "Many a time a castellan or lady has stood in for a Lord away at war, and they are not questioned in their authority. Let me be blunt my lord, lady Dustin has allowed her house to slide into a recession of power that is leaving a power vacuum in the Barrowlands, one that we cannot allow to remain. I urge you to speak to her about this, she is yet middle-aged is she not? She can change her ways, come to some form of agreement and move past the past. If she cannot, then we need to think of a more… permanent solution."

Ranma nodded. "Ser Jory Cassel gave his life to defend my father, and the Cassel House has been loyal to mine for generations. Nor are they the only ones. The Poole for example, or House Stout or Goldgrass may be elevated to fill in the void she has allowed to fester." While the Poole and Cassels were minor houses beholden to Winterfell, with House Poole actually looking to become richer with their position along the White Knife and the small taxes that would allow them to garner.

Goldgrass and Stout however were two of the few minor houses that still were nominally supposed to answer to House Dustin. In contrast to that house however, they had grown slightly since Robert's Rebellion. Ranma and Eddard really didn't care for either house much, Eddard had met their leaders and they seemed too like southern 'yes men' than real northern lords, so that was more of a threat than something they would actually go through with. House Cassel however, despite the fact Dustin's minor houses wouldn't like it, was a definite idea.

Lord Ryswell winced again. "I'll talk to her." he promised. "I don't know how far I'll get, but I'll talk to her. Hook of by crook though, you'll have your supplies my liege."

Ranma nodded. "That's about all we can ask of you, just make certain she understands her position."

OOOOOOO

The next day, the rearmament for the Karstark, Norrey and Umber forces went on. The light infantry, the trained armsmen, were given decent, but still light chainmail to replace their studded leather armor they wore for the most part, something even Karstark and Umber men needed. The cavalry too received some better equipment, though not the heavy cavalry, which had been given the 'lion's' share of such before. The light cavalry however received breastplates of the same type the heavy infantrywere given to wear over their leather armor, and more than one man also was given a helmet as heavy infantry of Stark and Cerwyn, all of them having been trained by Jon, wore plate cuirass and thigh guards over chainmail plus helmets.

They all needed this to a greater or lesser degree. The Norrey men's armor was all leather or ancient ring mail, and more than one minor house couldn't give its men steel weapons, using bronze instead. They were all ecstatic about their new weapons, but the Norrey and the other Mountain clans were even more so, since Ranma and his father had pledged that the rearmament was for all their fighting men. Each clan lord had already sent a runner home with news to that effect, and they would see more mountain warriors arriving in clumps over the next few months after the army left.

Ranma wasn't in charge of that. He left that in maester Luwin and Bran's capable hands, along with his father to manage the lords. Instead, while all of the men were getting over the fact they would have excellent weapons and armor, Ranma was having his first battle of the southern war and seemingly losing badly.

"For the final time NO!" Catelyn growled looking as if she wanted to shake him by the throat. She had lost the argument about Daenerys, she was not going to lose this one. "I nearly lost Bran once, I am not letting you take him off to war! I would rather you stay here too, but I know you cannot, but Bran is too young, and he is no warrior. Whatever projects you think you may need him on, I need him here, I will not allow it! If you take him, you'll have to take me too!"

That ended that conversation. Ranma wanted his mother as far away from the war as he could get her, and he sighed in defeat. "Alright, I would've wanted him to be the lead on some of the projects I can see needing down the road, but um, y-your right, his, his place his here with the rest of his family." Catelyn's eyes remained narrowed as they stared at him and he asked timidly. "Er, I-I don't suppose I could ask him to suggest someone else?"

"Fine, I'll go with you." Catelyn said smiling thinly. "That way I'll know that you've not tried to pressure him into going."

Ranma nodded meekly, but internally he was actually rather pleased with how this went on. Their fight had gone on long enough for Catelyn to truly believe that Ranma had desperately wanted Bran along, and not once had he mentioned the idea of Arya coming with him. No, he wasn't even going to try to fight that battle, he was just going to take her with him.

Arya was flat-chested enough to dress up as a man, and could slip in easily with the rest of the army until they were well away from Winterfell, whereupon she would join the wolfsworn along with Nymeria. That was a much better idea than having her chase after them alone, which was almost certain to happen if he didn't bring her along himself. That way, hopefully they would be out of earshot when his mother realized Arya was gone.

Of course, his argument with his mother wasn't the only thing that was going on that day…

OOOOOOO

That evening, the Lords, their heirs and a few of their ladies along with some chosen retainers met up in the godswood before the heart tree. The area was now crowded with several long tables, piled high with food on their white linen. Garlands were hanging from several of the trees, though not the heart tree, which stood resplendent, powerful and forbidding in its austerity, the face of the old man on its bark seeming to both stare and smile at the same time for some reason.

Ranma stood beside the pool at the heart tree's bade wearing formal clothing, Ice resting in the ground next to him. Jon and his father, using a large staff, stood to either side of him, the rest of the Lords gathered to either side.

As the sun set Daenerys moved towards them through the woods Myrcella, Alayaya and Dacey with her, performing an honor guard. Sunfyre also moved alongside her, the most well behaved of her two draklings. While Rhaegon was willing to not bite everything he saw, he did not like crowds, or noise. Fenris stood by her side as well, and there was some murmuring from the few retainers who had yet to see him or Ghost, who was also trailing on her other side. They acted like bodyguards, growling at the crowd of people to keep their distance. Ranma however barely noticed, his eyes locked on Daenerys.

Daenerys wore a simple dress of purest white, with some silver stitching done in the shape of her house's banner on her shoulders. It fell loosely down her legs, hugging her chest and upper body, showing her figure while allowing her legs full movement. Her head was bare, the silver hair of her house falling in a cascade down her back. Her violet eyes were locked on Ranma's blue ones, and neither could look away.

To one side Dacey laughed silently at the two of them. Seeing the two of them together had been amusing to say the least to the older woman. While she had enjoyed being with Ranma greatly, a wedding like this had never been something she wanted or wished for between them. Indeed Dacey would have balked at the idea of being tied down, even if at the time she had been happy sharing Ranma's bed. Daenerys on the other hand, could have nothing but and seemed to be looking forward to it. Young people. Eesh. Was I ever that young?

"Who comes before the old gods?" Ned asked in a loud voice standing forward.

Daenerys answered here. "I am Daenerys of the house of Targaryen, I come before you never touched by man, a willing wife I be, looking to be wed to Ranma Stark."

"Ranma will you take this woman?" said Lord Stark looking at his son.

"I will take this woman." said Ranma formally, holding out his hand to Daenerys who grasped it. At this point Ranma would normally have placed a cloak over Daenerys shoulders, but considering this was more a marriage of equals, and that their names were going to be Stark Targaryen signifying this, they had decided not to include that. Plus, they were both still wondering about what their banner should look like, let alone their family's colors, and had indeed decided to let Sansa loose on the problem for now.

They both knelt to the heart tree, and Lord Stark stood before them, trying to keep the pain from standing on his unresponsive leg from showing. "Then by the grace of the old gods I proclaim the man and wife."

The two of them looked at one another, and Ranma leaned over kissing her on the lips. There was a roar of approval, and Daenerys's arms went around him, hugging him tightly for a moment before they turned and viewed the cheering lords of the North.

"Now to feast!" said Smalljon pointing at the tables. "I bet I can finally drink you under the table father!"

"That will be the day!" his father bellowed back, smacking him on the shoulder. "I'll take that bet, and see you eat crow!"

With that their party started, with Daenerys sitting at the main table next to Ranma. He whispered into her ear as he sat down. "We'll act as if this was a normal feast for now, then as soon as the drinking begins we can slip away. Don't worry, all of the ale has been spiked already."

It wasn't exactly by the rules, the feast was supposed to end after the two new married couple had eaten then the bride was supposed to have her clothing torn off by the crowd so that everyone could see her body and make certain that she was clean and unblemished. Then they were supposed to watch while her maidenhead was broken, like Alys had been forced to endure. But both Daenerys and Ranma found that ceremony repugnant, and knew it wasn't needed in any event. Still, as long as the lords had enough fun and drank enough spirits, they would be allowed to slip off to Ranma's bed in his room without being bothered.

About an hour later Ranma nodded over at Jon who nodded back. The others were all drunk as Lords, and the only ones that remained awake were Smalljon and Greatjon. Every retainer was down, though maester Luwin was still awake staring around at the others in amusement. He however like Catelyn was a follower of the Seven, and did not really have much truck with the marriage customs here in the North.

Daenerys smiled, looking around them. She was feeling slight hesitation, but more and more eagerness as Ranma's hand was on her thigh, kneading the skin their through her dress as her hand was on his. "Do you think they'll be irritated tomorrow?"

"Hung over yes, irritated no. It's not the first time this has happened after all, trust me on that. We will however need to remember to strip the sheet off the bed afterward." He shrugged apologetically. "Sorry, but some things apparently need to be proven to a wide audience."

"We might wish to think of new marriage ceremony in the future. I liked exchanging our simple words out in the woods, underneath the sky and stars, but the whole bedding ceremony…' she shook her head.

"I'm just glad that you decided to go along with being married in the old tradition at all, that would have been a disaster." Ranma said standing up and helping her to her feet. "so, um, t, to bed, my wife?"

Daenerys nodded, anticipation boiling within her. With that they made their way out of the godswood, back into the keep and up to Ranma's room, never noticing how Greatjon had noticed them sneaking off, and smiled, shaking his head, understanding easily what had happened, but not having a problem with it. As much as he espoused the traditions of the old gods, he knew the bedding ceremony wasn't the most romantic of events, and that kind of thing mattered to girls.

Lemon start:

The moment the door shut Ranma turned to Daenerys, only to find her leaning up to him already. Their lips met, and her arms went around his neck, drawing him down to her. His own hands went around Daenerys' waist at first before grabbing her svelte rear, lifting her up with one hand on either cheek. Her legs went around Ranma's waist as he plunged his tongue into her mouth, dueling with her own there. Daenerys did not let Ranma dictate the kiss easily, pushing back as hard as Ranma did, unwilling to allow him control just yet.

Both of their eyes were closed, but Ranma knew his room well enough to move forward, still carrying Daenerys until her rear slid up along the bedding, forcing him to remove his hands, sliding them up her sides. Daenerys pulled back grinning wickedly up at him, as Ranma quickly divested himself of his shirt tossing it aside. Running her hands up his chiseled chest for a moment, Daenerys reveled in the feel of his muscles, so hard under her hands.

She began to fumble at her own dress for a moment, but Ranma reached around her, pulling the dress apart from where it tied at her neck easily. Daenerys pulled out of her sleeves, letting it pillow around her waist where she sat upright on the edge of the bed.

Her body was then bared to his gaze, and she flushed at the look of desire in Ranma's eyes. Though petite, Daenerys was quite stacked up top, with high C-sized breasts in the scale of his former life, a bare size smaller than Ranma's female form in that past life. Her nipples were a pale pink color, already hard and sticking out from the rest of her breasts.

"You're so beautiful Daenerys…" with those words Ranma knelt down, his knees on the floor. He then leaned forward taking one of her nipples in his mouth sucking gently, then harder as Daenerys encouraged him, pulling his head against her chest. "Harder. I'm not glass, harder."

Ranma complied sucking harder at her nipple as his tongue went to work on it, his other hand kneading her other breast while her hands fisted in his hair for a moment her head thrown back at the new sensations rocking through her body. This was amazing, this was astonishing, it was almost frightening how good it felt. Then it got better as Ranma began to use his teeth on her nipple, grinding the hard nub between his teeth, a sensation they caused her to gasp aloud. "Yes! Ranma!"

He grinned up at her, then switched to her other nipple giving it the same attention. After several minutes of this Daenerys pulled him back to his feet, then down into a heated kiss, their tongues once more dueling, almost beginning in midair for a moment she was so eager.

Then she pushed him away slightly, reaching down to grasp his breeches pulling them down hard. Both his breeches and his underwear came with. His cock sprang free, eight and a half inches and thick, standing up as hard and as straight as a granite column. The sight sent a pulse of desire through Daenerys. After a moment staring, she hesitantly leaned forward, licking the tip of it experimentally. Alayaya had told her about this and its equivalent the lord's kiss which she hoped Ranma would do to her but she had to be the one to start things apparently.

Or she would have, if Ranma was a normal part man. Instead he stopped her with a gentle hand on her hair. "You don't have to do that you know." He said his voice deeper than normal with lust and love. "I won't force you to do that if you think it's beneath you or anything."

Daenerys smiled at his concern, but shook her head pressing forward and licking the underside of his cock for a moment. Ranma had bathed of course before the ceremony so it didn't smell or anything like that. She licked at it experimentally, her hands going around him to knead his buttocks as Ranma's hands sank below her head, once again playing with her breasts, catching her nipples in his fingers.

She murmured in appreciation at that, then backed away from his shaft and opened her lips widely to take the tip in her mouth. Ranma moaned above her, signaling that she was doing something right. Licking the tip for a few moments Daenerys got used to having it in her mouth, then slowly pulled him forward, letting more of his shaft enter her mouth slowly, still licking at it as it entered.

Ranma growled his hands twitching against her breasts one of them leaving her breasts for a moment to fist in her hair, then falling away as if he was forcing himself not to simply grab her head and his cock down her throat. His self-control made Daenerys smile even more and she continued slowly forcing his cock down her throat.

After two more inches however Daenerys realized she couldn't go further, and her jaw was beginning to hurt. She slowly pulled back, licking at the shaft then the tip as she did so before it exited her mouth with a 'popping' sound. She works her jaw for a moment shaking your head. "Alayaya was right." she muttered, "that kind of thing takes practice."

Ranma laughed, lifting her up easily by he get his hands on her waist tossing her onto his bed to causing her to squeal. "Plenty of time for us to practice together my wife. I'm never letting you go!"

Daenerys laughed then gasped as suddenly her skirt was ripped from her and tossed to the side followed quickly by her underwear, with her lifting up her rear eagerly to allow Ranma to pull it off more easily. Her glistening flower was thus revealed, dripping with arousal already. The scent quickly hit Ranma, and he growled like Fenris, diving down before Daenerys could even gasp. She gasped then however, as he nuzzled her flower, his lips licking and biting at her outer folds. Indeed, she cried. "By the gods old and new!" Her hands fisted in his hair as she groaned aloud, bucking her waist up into his mouth. "Don't stop, don't stop. It feels so good!"

In response Ranma grabbed her thighs forcing her waist back down onto the bed from where she had bucked up. Now Daenerys couldn't get away from him, and was utterly at his mercy. Not that she was complaining, Ranma was working over her nether regions like a master pianist on the piano.

About five minutes later, Daenerys' cries became more and more ragged, and her upper body thrashed, her hair wildly flown this way and that as her eyes began to slide shut. 'Something, something's coming, I…..AHHHHHH!" At that moment Ranma had added a finger, gently pushing it inside her hole as his lips found her clit. She screamed like a banshee, her fingers almost ripping out his hair as she bucked up against his grip, spasming as she came for the first time. She actually squirted a little, something Ranma hadn't ever seen before or even heard about.

He grinned moments later pulling back and wiping his face licking at her juices. "You taste amazing Daenerys, like honey and cinnamon and some kind of fiery fruit, if that makes sense."

Daenerys laughed shaking your head. "I have no idea why, but I'm glad you enjoyed yourself my dear husband."

She practically purred the word husband, reaching up to grasp Ranma by his ponytail pulling him down to her while her fingers undid the string holding it in a ponytail, letting his hair fall against the back of his neck freely like her hair did. They kissed again, and Daenerys could taste herself on his lips. Ranma had described it accurately, and Daenerys was not repulsed by the taste. Indeed, it tasted rather good on his tongue against hers.

The two of them kissed softly then more ardently as Daenerys recovered, and Ranma moved himself up lightly to be between her legs. He pulled back, looking down at her, blue eyes meeting violet. "Are you ready?"

Daenerys nodded, staring up at him bravely, speaking formally. "Go slow my Lord. This has been magnificent so far, let's not ruin it with untoward haste."

Ranma laughed, and she slapped his chest, still some of the tension of the moment left them at that, which had been her objective speaking so formally. Moments later however she watched as Ranma brought his cock up to her flower, gently sliding it along the outer edge for a moment, lubricating it if such a thing was truly needed given how wet Daenerys was. Indeed the bedding underneath her waist had been drenched by her orgasm earlier.

At her nod Ranma slowly eased his cock into her, going in a bare inch before stopping letting her get used to his girth. Her hands fisted in the bedding on either side of her, then moved to his shoulders as he added another inch. It was excruciating torture for him having to control himself, but he persevered despite wanting to simply ram it in and get the painful bit over with. She had asked him to go slow, and he would do so.

Still, his control was fraying badly as he went on, and finally he hit her barrier inside her. Daenerys grimaced, pulling him down to kiss her again. After a few moments she pulled back and nodded and Ranma pulled back slightly then rammed forward, breaking her barrier.

She wanted to scream but instead Daenerys bit down on his shoulder, biting so hard she actually drew blood. Her nails also dug in to his back slightly. Ranma grunted, the pain of that helping to combat the feeling of his cock being inside of her.

The two of them stayed like that for several moments as Daenerys's pain began to recede, and she loosened her clamped jaw on his shoulder. Her nails also slowly loosening their death grip on his back. She pulled back, her eyes closed as Daenerys fought the pain for a moment, before looking up into Ranma's concerned blue eyes. She nodded, and he leaned down and kissed her again, while his hips began to slowly piston in and out, not going deeper just yet, just in and out slowly.

That lasted about ten minutes before both of them began to be top anxious for more for him to continue. She raised up to meet one of his downward thrusts breaking the kiss to growl. "I'm not made of glass, please, faster!"

Ranma complied, thrusting into her harder and harder, until she was bouncing off the bed in rhythm with his thrusts, squealing, moaning "YES, jarasea (my love), yes!"

In response Ranma simply began to say her name over and over again "Daenerys, Daenerys, Daenerys!"

Soon enough Daenerys peaked again. Shouting "Ranma!" her nails on his back once again punctured his skin, raking his back slightly leaving welts and almost drawing blood as she thrust her core up into his thrusts.

Daenerys's pussy clamped down as she came and it was all Ranma could do to pull out before he too came, like a geyser going off. Streams of cum splattered Daenerys's stomach, her breasts and even reached her neck, before sliding slowly down to one side of her neck as Daenerys turned her head, lolling completely out of it for a few moments.

Daenerys slowly came back to herself as Ranma leaned away, remaining on his hands and knees at the foot of the bed but obviously wobbling a little. She looked down at the mess he had made on her chest and stomach, then reached down slightly with one finger and scooped up a gobbet of his semen. Tentatively she raised it to her mouth, sticking out her tongue to lick at it for a moment. Her eyes widened slightly surprised. It wasn't nearly as nasty tasting as Alayaya had told her it would be. It tasted almost good, and she wondered why before licking the rest of the gob away from her fingers. She looked down at Ranma, who was watching this with wide eyes. "You taste good." she purred then laughed as Ranma's eyes widened further. "Thank you though for following our plan there."

"Of course." Ranma said as if not following it hadn't even occurred to them. "A child right now might make my nobles happy, solidifying the line of succession, but it would also damn irritating on the march."

Daenerys nodded, reaching down to scoop up more of his comments sucking at it off her fingers staring at him. The two of them had discussed children on the boat coming up from White Harbor, and had decided together that it was not something they needed or could really deal with now. There was simply too much going on, they would both need to head south, Daenerys because of her draklings and the influence she might have with a few houses down south, and him because of the army. A child would force her to remain behind, and while that was fine for a normal noble wife, Daenerys wasn't just his wife but his chief counselor, and the symbol of their union. None of the families that had supported her house would believe him if she was not actually with him physically.

"Very good indeed." she said, pushing herself up the bed to lean against that bedpost behind her. Her eyes strayed down to the mass they had made of the bedding, a few large spots of blood marking the place where she had lost her virginity, centered on the rather large wet spot that she had caused earlier, then added to when she came a second time.

Ranma moved up to her side, kissing her lovingly on the lips then down the side of her face to her neck sucking there gently, leaving a mark as Daenerys had on his shoulder while his hands began to work at her breasts once more. She looked down, gasping when she saw that his cock was once more erect, if it had indeed flagged before. "Oh my" Daenerys murmured, causing Ranma to break off kissing her neck with a chuckle. She looked at him quizzically, but he shook his head leaning up to kiss her on the lips before pulling her to him, switching around so that he was on the bottom of the two of them.

He pulled back from the kiss nuzzling into her neck as he looked up at her with one eyebrow cocked. "Round two?"

OOOOOOO

Daenerys laughed, pushing her rear back against run his cock, lifting herself up slightly to allow them to line up once more before lowering her herself with a moaning gurgle as his cock once more filled her. Neither noticed during this that the door to Ranma's room was open a crack.

On the other side of the door crouched Myrcella, hidden in the shadows of the hallway outside while the action on the inside of Ranma's room was very visible thanks to a few torches set into the walls of the room earlier that evening. She continued to watch for several more moments, the sight burning its way into her brain and causing a fire in her belly and further down.

It was a feeling that Myrcella had only felt once before, when Ranma kissed her that time during the tourney when he was under the aphrodisiac's power. Her hands, unconscious of her mind which was still trying to burn everything she was seeing into its memory, trailed down to her privates, covered as they were in her skirt.

Alayaya had been with her originally during the festivities outside, but had retired with Smalljon for the evening. The Summer island woman was rather fascinated by how there was a mind hidden under that wild northern bumpkin exterior. That relationship would probably not become permanent, but for now Alayaya was more much more freer with her affections then Myrcella could be.

Catelyn too had been with her for a few moments, but she had retired with her husband several moments after Ranma and Daenerys had escaped. Sansa was with the other youngsters having a sleepover, her and Arya taking turns telling Rickon stories while they all bunkered down in his room at the end of the hallway. Myrcella was supposed to be with them, but she had been able to convince lady Catelyn and the others to allow her to watch the ceremony at least, and after the drinking had begun and the children escorted away, she had begun to follow the newlyweds when they broke off.

Fenris who was guarding the hallway from busybodies had let her go, not seeing any harm in it and with Ranma not having told Fenris to stop her, just any of the people whose sense Fenris did not know intimately. Nay of the wolfsworn, Sansa and Alayaya could've done the same thing, but they weren't interested thankfully.

Myrcella stopped touching herself after the first shock at doing so, which had sent a bolt of pleasure through her, then reluctantly pulled away from the doorway, closing it as quietly as she could. She looked around, then to the room next to Ranma's, which had her originally been Bran's, but he was with the others down in Rickon's in the next hall.

For a moment she waited there, her mind dueling with her subconscious desires. Myrcella knew she should return to the other children before she was missed, but. A loud moan from Ranma's room, and the shout of "Yes!" caused her to decide, and she moved into Bran's room. There she leaned against the wall separating the two rooms, which thankfully put her directly behind the bed where the action had begun once more. Sliding down to the ground, she began to gently place her hands underneath her bunched skirt…

Lemon End

OOOOOOO

The next morning dawned bright, though Daenerys didn't really realize this at the time. She was in pain. A lot of pain. She felt as if someone had driven a red hot poker up inside her. She cursed Ranma volubly and he winced as he rolled out of bed. "Okay, so maybe the fifth and sixth rounds were a bad idea. But ya weren't complainin' at the time."

"A moment of insanity that I am now paying for!" Daenerys said reaching out to smack him on the shoulder. He winced, moving his shoulder theatrically but that hadn't left a mark, she had given him others. His back was a crisscross now of welts from her nails, her teeth had left a mark on his shoulder, and on his thigh from later that evening. Other than that however, he was feeling quite spry this morning, whereas Daenerys wasn't.

She was feeling wrung out and hung out to dry, and that was without the pain centered on her privates. She was also feeling rather sticky, covered with both of their juices. Ranma had been as good as his word and had pulled out every time, but that and the sweat and her own juices made for a very sticky combination. "Get Alayaya or one of your maids in here to clean the up, then get me something for the pain." she ordered imperiously pointing at the door. "And until this pain has gone away my Lord, you can think again about any sort of reprise of last night."

Ranma laughed and kissed her on the lips and Daenerys' traitorous body began to respond again. She pushed him away quickly. "None of that! Besides, aren't we supposed to leave later today?" Ranma nodded, more grimly but still stole one more kiss for leaving, one of his bed pillows following him to the door.

Daenerys fell back onto the bed, her smile going from a tiny almost invisible one to a wide beaming grin as she leaned back. Despite the pains shooting through her body and her general level of exhaustion, she had never felt more alive, never more like a woman that she did now.

Moments later the door opened, and Ranma pushed his way back in, carrying a warm damp towel, with Sunfyre and Rhaegon behind him Alayaya followed them at a safe distance, a smirk on her face. Surprisingly Merry followed her, face flushed so much that it looked almost rose like in color as she stared between the two of them. The feelings she had given herself last night had been astonishing in their potency, and looking at the two of them simply brought back that memory. Luckily she had gotten back to the children with no one the wiser, simply saying that something she had eaten had disagreed with her.

Alayaya moved forward with Ranma, both of them taking a cloth and working them down Daenerys's body cleaning her off. While they were doing that, Myrcella looked at the utterly ruined sheet. "You know you'll need to show that to the lords outside?"

Daenerys and Ranma both growled, but Ranma nodded. "Take it with you Myrcella, show the crowd what they have to see I suppose."

Moments after Myrcella left they could both hear the shout of joy from outside, and Daenerys shook her head. "And that my Lord," she said looking up at Ranma. "Is the first and only time anything we do will be on display!"

"I'm certainly not gonna object." Ranma said leaning down the kitchen kissing her on the lips again. "I'll send some more maids in to help you get dressed, then I get to have the fun of getting some drunk and very hung over lords ready to march."

"Good luck!" Daenerys laughed, reaching down to help her no-longer-so little ones up onto the bed where they nuzzled into her sides. They had felt her exultation last night as well as her slight pain, but Ghost and the other direwolves had sat on them hard when they tried to go to her. The draklings didn't get along as well with the rest of the pack as they did with Fenris, but they were friendly enough, and they feared Nymeria. For some reason she just gave them the creeps, even more than Ghost, who their senses could barely follow if he moved around. There was just something about the powerful female direwolf that screamed submit to both of the young draklings.

As soon as they were alone, Alyayaya smirked at the princess. "So, how was it?"

Outside Ranma gleefully went about the business of waking the lords from a massive drinking binge to equally massive hangovers. Regrettably Myrcella had done a good enough job, getting most of them to at least be awake when she came out and informed them of the nights activities parading the sheet around. Seeing it lying on the main table Ranma shook his head in disgust. Some things in this world just pissed him off, but at least they'd found a way around that bit of politically motivated vileness.

Hours later however, his irritation was gone, and he was once more saying goodbye to his family. Catelyn was crying softly, leaning against Ned who was exchanging hand clasps with his son. Rickon was also crying, clutching at Ranma's leg begging him not to leave again. Ranma looked down at him then gently pried his youngest brother's arms off him, shaking his head. "I have to go Rickon, I have to save our grandfather. Maybe if I do you can come down and see him sometime, wouldn't you like that?"

Actually the odds of Ranma arriving in time to save or even see Hoster alive was low, but Rickon didn't know that. After a moment he nodded sniffling still but backing away. Bran came forward for a hug, as did Sansa, who was in no hurry to leave Winterfell again. Arya was in her room after having a loud and very public row with Ranma about coming with him. That had assuaged Catelyn's fears that the girl might run after him, and she hadn't even noticed a much shorter than normal guardsmen joining the column as it marched out of Winterfell behind Ranma.

Daenerys waited on a horse nearby by Jon, with Ghost and Fenris to either side of them with the two draklings on their backs for now. Fenris could've carried them both weight wise, but not size wise. They were now both nearly up to Daenerys waist if they stretched, small in comparison to the direwolves, but laid out still large enough so that they didn't have enough space for both of them.

Catelyn looked up at her, nodding formally at her. "Take care of one another."

"We will." Daenerys said nodding her head. Luckily, no one had argued with the fact that she had to go with the army, personally talking to the houses that she hoped to bring to their side, though the first several of those houses would at best be able to give the army a local source of food and housing rather than actually add to its strength overmuch. The loyalist houses in the Riverlands had been smashed by Lord Tully after the war, and not a one of them had been able to regain its former strength. The Reach however would be a different story, and possibly the Vale, where the Loyalist houses hadn't been smashed as badly by Jon Aryn after the war.

Ranma finished hugging his parents and siblings, then turned away taking position next to Daenerys. The two of them waved one final time then left. "Let's get out of here before mother decides to check Arya's room and finds her gone." Ranma whispered.

Jon laughed quietly, and the two of them with their wolves beside them raced through the winter town to join the forces already making its way down the Kingsroad from Winterfell. They would meet up with the forces already sent to Castle Cerwyn, and then would march down as fast as they could go moving as quickly as they could down to Moat Cailin and from there into the Riverlands. Ranma, Daenerys and the North were going to war.

Chapter End

---

I hope everyone noticed that I didn't even try to do many travel scenes. While travel times and communication times matter, I used those times originally to build characters and interactions, that is no longer necessary. I won't even mention the march down to Moat Cailin, except for three scenes, neither of which will have anything to do with the actual travelling. The war however is going to pick up down south, and what the Northerners run into won't be to their liking at all. Nor will the Reach or Renly be happy. Renly will have to face the charge of cowardice head on, and The Reach learns that Tywin has ways to hurt them even with his army elsewhere.

So, now the North knows about the White Walker threat, and the threat of Stannis, and are ready to defend their lands from all comers while also wishing to unite some of the southern forces so they too can be added to the defense of the Wall. Thanks to the larger levees from Cerwyn, Karstark, Ryswell and Stark the force sent is actually larger than in canon but don't take too much from the houses that will allow them to defend themselves.

I realize it seems a lot of secrets came out in this chapter without much hullaballoo, but I think in the main it made sense for the lords to take the news of the White Walkers as they did, especially given the Shadow Warriors. And as for the wolfsworn, sorry, I don't do angst. There was no chance of any of them turning against Ranma because of his resurrection, but given the new training they were taking on, it made sense for it to come out now.

I also know that Daenerys keeping her last name might irritate some purists, but I wanted to make the marriage very obviously a marriage between equals, in mind and position towards one another if not in military strength. Think the marriage between Cayleb and Sharleyan and how they kept their last names.

For those wondering, I'm about a week and a half away from putting out my next ATP chapter. Sorry Harry fans, but this story has really grabbed my attention and thus my free time.

As always please review, and I hope you all enjoyed it.

I've also added a new idea on my profile, if you want to talk about it, PM me, but be aware I won't be taking them up any time soon.